Dearest of Friends
by missarchades
Summary: Holding adult feelings for a childhood friend can be a very precarious thing; doubly so when said friend is a nefarious flirt. It doesn't stop Cynthia from loving him all the same, even as they part ways and time goes by. Cross-posted from AO3.
1. Hero Chaser

...Well damn. I started writing this some two odd years ago, but only now have I had the inspiration to finish it. This began as only an Awakening fic, but now it's gonna be an Awakening/Fates short story

This is based off of one of my male MU runs of the game: he has an adult build, a pink colored buzz cut, and is superior in magic and had strength as his flaw, and in this run he married Sumia, while Olivia married Chrom.

 _Cynthia/Inigo is the number one Awakening ship for me. Given that they sound very close in their supports (and the fact that Cindy has female admirers, which is quite funny), I always felt that they had a warm and loving bond since childhood. Both of them were shy during that time and are often picked on during the game, so I guess that helps too._

 _Enjoy this smutty little thing.  
_

* * *

 ** _Dearest of Friends_**

* * *

 _Plegia-Ylisse Border Pass_

"Justice always triumphs!"

Her joy and enthusiasm clashed with the bloodied corpse of a sage that she had just slain, his entrails sliding out of him. She even did a little twirl on her Pegasus, completely ignoring a chunk of intestines that flew off of her silver lance and landed on her lap.

The children's behavior – Chrom's nephew Owain and his younger daughter Morgan stood out the most– unnerved Robin, but his concern was raised to new heights at his elder daughter's bombastic bravado. Perhaps this whole "hero of justice" act was a method of coping?

His pondering would have to wait.

Robin hesitated that moment when another sage, hidden in a nearby fortress, sprang out with a Rexcalibur tome in hand. A vicious spiral of green-hued gales spun debris and rubble into an earth-shredding whirlwind.

"Cynthia, behind you!

Had Inigo not jumped in to catch her, Cynthia would have been a bloody smear on the cliff side. Robin cringed as he saw her Pegasus slam back first into the rocks, whining in pain and violently kicking. The dust had barely begun to settle when the offending sage was gutted by the end of Robin's sword.

He glanced to the side to see that Cynthia and Inigo chose to stay behind, and probably for the better, as this little legion of bandits was stronger than he had expected. All was well and good, save for the fact that the young man and his daughter were a bit _too_ close for a pair of soldiers...

Cynthia's leg shattered from the fall. She whimpered in pain, her breaths ragged at its bloody state. Inigo looked down at her and saw her face flushing heavily.

 _"This is embarrassing...he was probably doing nothing but standing there too..."_

She let out a moan of frustration. Bandits were supposed to be the _dumbest_ villains.

"We all have our off days, Cynthia."

She looked up and was soothed by the gentle features of her dearest friend. Inigo couldn't curb her humiliation, but his kind words and gentle smile, still lifted her spirits.

"Getting knocked around by a wind spell without realizing it isn't just a 'bad day,' Inigo. I was careless."

He sighed. "You're hardly alone there." He gestured at a bloody laceration on top of his shoulder. "Some rogue caught me when I scaled down the pass."

"We were hardly heroic..." Cynthia let out a weak chuckle.

"Heh, hardly is right..."

It was at that moment that Inigo realized just how _close_ they actually were. He was still clutching her in his arms, and her head was craned back, slightly spellbound by the fierce look in his eyes. His right eye in particular seemed to glimmer in the sun, courtesy of his Brand of the Exalt, the mark that served as proof of his royal lineage.

"Ehe..." Cynthia smiled. She had secretly craved being _this_ close to him. "You certainly look like a hero at _this_ angle, Inigo."

"R-really now..."

He gently let her go and looked away in embarrassment, his face rosy. "Brady's not too far away. I'll call him over."

Inigo slowly stood up and waved his good arm at Brady, who was at the foot of the pass. It took the healer all of his willpower not to trip on the slope as he scaled it, and miraculously he did not. He came to Inigo and began to chant, evoking the magic within his Mend staff. Despite the sting, the beads of soft blue light successfully sewed Inigo's wound shut and stopped the bleeding.

"Thanks, Brady. You're the best."

"No prob," said the thuggish-looking acolyte, smiling in earnest for once. "Be more careful though, ya hear?"

The two of them looked up to see that the enemy had been routed and the veteran Shepherds who fought them were preparing to hit the road again. She gasped as she felt herself being lifted – her father, Robin, had lifted her and took her to the carriage that doubled as a medical tent. Brady trotted over to her, swapping out his Mend staff for a more potent Recover staff.

As Brady prepped the staff for recovery, Cynthia's eyes followed her father. He didn't really inquire about her well-being when he carried her over – he just let out a disapproving grunt, avoiding eye contact. She kept her eyes on him as he stopped, discovering that Morgan had been injured as well.

She couldn't hear a thing they were saying, but they were smiling. He even petted her head.

"This is gonna sting a little, Cindy," said Brady, his face grimacing. "Yer lucky, that's for sure. If Inigo didn't save ya, you'da prolly…well, you know…"

The girl said nothing, letting Brady's magic do its work. Instead, she found herself longingly looking at the swordsman she held dear; jealousy's grip grabbed her for a fleeting moment when he spotted him speaking merrily to a flustered-looking Severa. Meanwhile, Robin, with Morgan in tow, had found his way to Sumia, and judging by their expressions, they were speaking of something serious. Morgan, on the other hand, looked happy and oblivious as usual.

"Don't you worry now, Cindy. Shit like ambushes happen all the time in battle. Yer ma an' yer pa can't be mad at ya." He winked at her, patting her arm in reassurance.

Brady was wrong. Sumia, as gentle as she was, had her limits when it came to blunders in battle. Robin, meanwhile, lacked those limits altogether, as did Prince Chrom. Even if they were to give her a pass for her mistake, the other kids definitely wouldn't, because they, and the other veterans, all found her nutty. Her sister Morgan was the worst – she was callous toward the others, yet even she gave Cynthia grief from time to time.

That grief was the thanks Cynthia got for standing up for that idiot sister of hers. Amnesiac she was, it still wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair at all.

* * *

 _Day: Friday_

 _Month: February_

 _Weather: Cloudy, then sunny_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _So it seems that my intuition about the man I thought was Prince Chrom was off. It was really, really off. It was so off that I'm surprised that no one's laughed at me yet. It's what they've all been doing this whole time, so why not now?_

 _Then again, maybe I should've figured it out when he nearly forced me to take all my clothes off in front of him…_

 _We were all so young when Prince Chrom died, so they have no right to laugh at me! Only Lucina can really remember him, since Inigo says that he was far too little to remember him when his death happened. They have a whole lineage that they're reminded of every day, and Chrom's is among the most respected. Easy to see why only they can remember him._

 _The same can't be said of my own mom, and dad is -_

The words Cynthia used to describe her father were scribbled over.

 _Most of my memories of Mom are still pretty clear. She was doting and loving and always made the best pies…except for that nasty elderberry pie that always made me sick to my stomach. Lucina told me that she tried to win Chrom over with an elderberry pie. Chrom has no taste! That pie is gross! I had no idea that Mom had a fondness for Chrom either. There she was, seemingly in love, ultimately rejected...but she fought on, like a true Pegasus Knight would. I don't care if she's Inigo's mom and the Queen of Ylisse, Olivia's a big fat weenie compared to my mom._

 _Dad's almost like a stranger. I can sort of remember him – I can see him – but vaguely._

 _From what I can recall, he was distant. I don't remember what he did in my time, but here he's the tactician of the Shepherds. I asked him about how he was able to take out that fake Chrom's legion of bandits. It mostly involved hiding in the trees and using the debris that was lying around for cover. They then split into a pincer-shaped formation and came in at once to intimidate the sellswords that the fake was trying to persuade. The pincer part sounded like fun, so I asked him if they cried out before rushing in. I can imagine all of the Pegasus Knights and the Wyvern Riders swooping in at once, maybe in a blaze of fire._

 _He gave me this weird look. His brows were all furrowed. He then dismissed himself._

 _I wonder if dad's gonna ridicule me too._

 _The way he talks is as if -_

 _\- will he just ignore me?_

The passage between "if" and "will" was also crossed out.

* * *

 _Day: Saturday_

 _Month: April_

 _Weather: Sunny_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _It's been a strange day._

 _There were no bandits skulking about or civil battles going on today, so when we got off at the pier in West Ferox, Dad opted to take our caravan through the Longfort and head south to Ylisstol from there. Plegia was still a no-no because of some diplomacy problem that Lucina vaguely mentioned some time ago. Along the way, Chrom learned of a rumor of some artifact called Naga's Tear, so we took a detour at some ruins that were north of the port._

 _Inside was Morgan. Not only was she there, with her Pegasus Rider uniform on and riding some Pegasus I hadn't seen before, but she also had amnesia. My own little sister doesn't remember a thing about Mom or me, but for some reason, she remembers Dad just fine. She says that she wants to be a tactician like him. I, on the other hand clearly remember her wanting to be a Dark Flier, riding on one of those majestic (and rare!) black Pegasi._

 _In fact, one day, when she was five years old, she was playing chess with Dad. She got so frustrated that she kicked the table over and threw the entire set at him. The lessons stopped for a long time, that's for sure._

 _That's one clear memory I have of Dad, and he's angry in it._

 _Morgan read far better than most for her age and was really good with numbers, but there are many other children like that. Laurent is one of them, and he uses those gifts of his far better than she does – even if he can be a meanie._

 _I remember that she went crying to Mom and begged her to have her take the test to become a Pegasus Knight. According to Mom, there are four ranks that a potential knight must climb through, starting with the probationary flier level. Passing a series of tests ranks her up to a Pegasus Rider, and then a Pegasus Knight, which allows for her to formally enroll in Ylisse's Pegasus Knight Platoon. Commanding knights can then become Falcon Knights, or if they have a talent for magic and there's a black Pegasus around, a Dark Flier._

 _I think she barely made it to Pegasus Rider when her training stopped and she wanted to be a tactician again. It probably something to do with how evilly my flying instructor looked at her when I began my own training. She probably pulled some stupid prank. She did tend to get bored easily._

 _Seeing her now was like when I saw Dad again: I'm meeting a stranger. A stranger who doesn't seem very disturbed that most of her memories are gone. My baby sister might as well have come from some twisted Outrealm._

* * *

 _Day: Tuesday_

 _Month: May_

 _Weather: Thunderstorms all day long_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Chrom is making preparations to meet with the king of Plegia. There's a thunderstorm outside, so today is a rest day for the Shepherds._

 _It seemed like a fun day to bond. Nah wasn't my favorite person in the world, but bonds bound us together like nails to a cabin, so I told her this cool new scenario that I had: I could ride her like how Gerome rides Minerva. And then we clash! But Nah being Nah, she refused. She said something about my head being in my rear. I really -_

 _She's not as mature as she thinks she is!_

Again, a section was crossed out. This time, it was a slew of slurs about Cynthia's half-human, half-dragon companion.

 _I opted to practice my war cries alone. I am the daughter of a great Pegasus Knight, after all!_

 _Severa, also the daughter of a Pegasus Knight, just had to come in and insult me. She's so icy. There's a reason everyone hates talking to you. You're pitiable. You're pathetic. You're the poor, poor daughter of the oh-so-tortured genius of the Shepherds, forever living in her shadow, and you reeeeally like letting everyone know it, don't you? Why, we're practically the same coin. Character foils, maybe!_

 _Besides, her father doted on her in our time when he was alive. He's doing it more than ever now. How dare she be so spoiled! There's only so much that little miss spoiled ice queen has a say in._

 _And after she left, I found Morgan unconscious on the ground. She told me that she was trying to jolt her memories awake by hitting her head on the wall. I swear, she's -_

* * *

"Cynthia?"

It took all of two seconds for Cynthia to slam her diary shut when Laurent came inside. As she hid it, Laurent, gingerly propped up a newly forged silver lance and a Shockstick on the weapon rack near her cot.

"Er...are we heading out for anything?" Cynthia longingly gazed at the two lances. The Shockstick in particular was a rare lance fused with thunder magic, and such a lance could give her the opportunity to test her latent magical potential. It was a shame that they were so rare - three families of esteemed blacksmiths made the Shockstick, the Levin Sword, and the Bolt Axe, and they could not be bought from regular merchants.

"The roads are flooded because of this storm," Laurent spoke, adjusting his glasses. "We're definitely not heading out for the next few days or so, but Robin requested me to purchase new supplies. I have procured these for you."

Cynthia beamed. "And you found a Shockstick!?"

"Yes, but - Cynthia!"

She should have known better, but Cynthia couldn't help but grab the magical lance and admire its sheer presence. The pole was forged with fine silver, and she could see a series of magical glyphs on the side. Such glyphs, with their odd, curved script, were often seen when magical spells were cast – the words were what drew power into weapons and tomes. The blade itself was shaped like a lightning bolt, and bits of steel were cast on the edges. To Cynthia, the weapon was the perfect mix of elegant and brute, truly fit for a magic knight.

With a flourish, she spun forward and punched the air, lance still in hand. "Fear me, scions of evil! Gaze upon my magics, ye wicked, and despair!"

Laurent hid a smile as she posed. That said, the beginnings of a headache spiked in his head. She faced him and grinned.

"That could surly throw a foe for a loop, Laurent!"

"If said foe had the attention span of a cockroach, perhaps..." Laurent sighed.

"Excuse me?"

"Erm…Cynthia, I advise you be careful with that Shockstick. It's quite fragile. According to the merchant, without proper care, it will probably break after casting its magic...hm, twenty times or so."

"Aww, really?" Cynthia's face fell. "Darn...well, if you say so -"

 ***clang***

It was almost comical at how easily Cynthia fell. As she crossed her left foot forward, she tripped over the lance.

Cynthia hit onto the floor, hard. She cried out in pain at the feeling of the hard marble floor bruising her legs. Before Laurent could react, a large bolt of lightning shot out from the stick, frying the edge of his robe. He cried out in frustration, using his hat to pat down the flames that emerged near his feet.

She made a feeble attempt to help him, apologizing over and over. She cringed at hearing him hiss in anger. The flames on his robes died out, but Laurent was no less upset.

"...As uplifting as your enthusiasm can be..." Laurent sighed, still frazzled. "It can, in all honesty, be _juvenile_."

"Laurent..." Cynthia's face fell, damn near ready to cry.

He mentally cursed himself, having gone through this before when she fell on him by accident. "Perhaps juvenile was the incorrect word. I understand that it was an accident, and I have observed how you have better restrained yourself, but please, do be more careful around that Shockstick." He gathered himself and stood. "I also assure you that I won't speak to your father and the others about this incident."

Those words were empty, for very little escaped Robin's eyes in regards to who did what. Almost every incident that had happened involving her bought harsh words of judgment from him. It had gotten to the point that Cynthia did not practice super moves during regulated training sessions under Chrom, Frederick, and her father, saving them for later hours.

It was another drop in her little bucket of loathing that no one assumed had existed. An older drop originated during yesterday's training session: Morgan wound up wasting three "Arc-" level tomes doing some odd martial arts training with Nah. Robin laughed and doted on her, praising her efforts.

* * *

The thunderstorms had ended that night. Spring had entered its prime, with the beauty of Ylisse's flora and trees lovelier than ever. When the rest of her fellow children went to bed, Cynthia opted for a late-night walk, partially because she wanted to feed her Pegasus, partially because she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

When the Shepherds were due for missions near Ylisstol, the Shepherds' Garrison was their usual resting place. As their next mission was a diplomatic one and no urgency was to be had, they slept in the palace dormitories instead. For the first time in forever, the Shepherds could rest in the lap of luxury and excess. For the children from the future, such a night was a first for most of them.

Behind the palace were the stables for the horses and Pegasi, with some improvised space made for Cherche and Gerome's wyverns and a wayward griffon that they found during the Valmese War. Verdant fields of grass for grazing stretched for acres, with a fresh garden supplying both food for the palace and the steeds. Cynthia, donned in a brown cotton jumper with a small corset over a white shirt with detached sleeves, scanned the stables and found her Pegasus. She was the very same Pegasus that her mother had the honor of riding on, and her name was Est. Like Gerome's wyvern Minerva, Est shared her name with a famous warrior from the era of Akaneia. Though fondly remembered as one of the legendary Whitewings, Est was equally as infamous for her prone to kidnappings and was the hated player of a love triangle that was disputed by historians to this day. Despite all this, Est was a strong Pegasus, having endured more horrors than most.

When Est had returned to Cynthia the day Sumia died, her condition was terrible, mane all tangled and body charred. She did not even notice how much she neglected her until she came to the modern era and Sumia pointed it out to her. Since then, Cynthia had tried her best to lift the weary Pegasus' spirits.

Cynthia fetched a large bucket of water from a nearby well for Est to drink. She opened her gate and gestured her out, brushing her mane as she drank. Normally she would give Est a pep talk, but she felt too somber tonight to do so.

 _"Do I even belong here...?"_

That question kept looping around more and more in her head. Did a juvenile hero of justice belong with hardened soldiers after all?

 _"I probably don't. The others hate me. Doesn't matter what I've done in the future…when I'm not fighting, they..."_

Est whinnied into her ear.

"Hehe...sorry, Est. Gee, your coat's a little matted..." Even as she brushed, Est kept gesturing to her master's left. Curious, Cynthia looked that way and jumped when she heard a loud _whumph._

"Oww..."

A curious Cynthia gestured Est to stay put and ran over to the source of the noise. To her surprise and hidden delight, Inigo was sitting on his rear, letting out kitten-like whimpers in pain.

"Inigo!"

The young man looked up and cringed. His embarrassed flush went unseen by the Pegasus Knight as she happily sat by him.

"What's with the face? Was it you that fell over just now?" She squatted and faced him, face aglow with curiosity.

Inigo made a squeaking sound. Upon gazing at his friend, he couldn't tell if he was flushing from embarrassment or from her looks. If he didn't know her at all, he would have assumed that she was some pretty milkmaid or a farmer's daughter passing by. The corseted jumper certainly bought out certain _assets_ that often went unnoticed on a daily basis, courtesy of her armor. There was also something attractive, alluring even, about how her pinkish-colored hair was tied in a loose ponytail, leaving a few stray curls by her neck. It was far womanlier looking than her childish pigtails.

"...Inigo? Hey, I'm talking here!" She waved her hand in front of his face. He snapped out of his reverie.

"...Cynthia?" He said stupidly.

"Yep! It's me! Now tell me where it hurts. There's a first aid kit in one of the stables, you know." She grinned, playfully punching his leg. He recoiled.

"Owowowow...that's where it hurts...and my rump. Especially my rump." The crease between his brows was pronounced. "This is so humiliating..."

He sighed in defeat. While a sprain in the leg and a bruised bottom were hindrances, it could have been worse - what if, gods forbid, she had seen him actually dancing?

But judging by her curious eyes, she did not – and how big they seemed! They were as lovely and as round as the moon, as earthy in their color as a beautiful clay pot. If there were a moment back then when Cynthia looked as lovely as she did now, he did not recall it…

He shook his head.

 _"Am I getting all weak in the knees because she's wearing such a charming outfit…? What's wrong with me?"_

He eased his stare, gauging her reaction: a giggle and a smile. His cheeks felt warm – curious, as he felt some of that same warmth the last time they spoke to one another. She was all smiles that day too, bringing much-needed cheer to his horrid week.

She'd indulge his love of the ladies, so why not indulge her? He smirked.

"I…actually wouldn't mind treatment right now, especially from you." He gave her a wink.

Cynthia was sure that the warmth that sputtered in her chest wasn't from the fire that burned nearby. She ran off without a word, her face searing with heat.

Sure, Inigo was always a wonderful sight for sore eyes, but tonight that "wonderful" sight veered into a far more erotic one: he wore naught but loose-fitting pantaloons and a low-hanging white shirt that left his chest and his abdomen mostly exposed for the world to see. He was taut in those areas, with narrow but muscular hips and strong arms – he lacked Owain and Gerome's bulk, yet he was no weaker for it, and it gave him a graceful appearance. His legs were his strongest parts, finely trained from years and years of discipline and careful footwork.

It was also no secret to Cynthia that Inigo was a dancer like his mother was, but he took great pains to perform alone. A mere mentioning of it sent Inigo running for the hills in mortification. It was also a part of the mass of irony that he was; he made mentions of it during his philandering adventures, but ninety-nine percent of those ended in epic, humiliating, and outright comical failure.

It was also saddening to Cynthia that she was the only one who put up with that philandering, lending him her ear despite the anger she'd always feel. After all, he too was aware that the other kids tended to push her around for being so strange, and they'd also dump on him for being so flirtatious. The rotten Nah made a threat to _eat_ the poor guy at one point. As she found the kit, she huffed out a few times in anger.

"We like artsy things, we like helping people who get into trouble, we're both sociable people...I guess I'm not pretty enough?" She frowned as she began her walk back. "Or..."

She grasped her plump breasts. The corset made them perky and plush, giving them a roundness often seen by noblewomen in fancy dress. "...I gotta make him look at _these_ to get his attention?"

She took the strings and tightened them a little, making her breasts pop up more. With a determined look on her face, she began running back to her childhood crush.

* * *

Inigo idly played with one of the wildflowers he had plucked. As time passed, he mulled over some recent events, one such event being that he overheard Robin the tactician giving Cynthia an earful about accidentally triggering a Shockstick. It was mere chance that he and Cynthia were out here meeting one another tonight, but after speaking to her not long ago – that time when he felt a strange sense of longing and a peculiar warmth in his chest – he felt the need to see her again.

 _"I mean, why do you feel a need to flirt so much? Would it kill you not to have a throng of girls screaming and pining for you?"_

 _"Hmm...it's not a logical thing that draws me to the ladies. It's more like...instinct."_

The instinct being, after some thinking and a little bit of snarky wisdom from Laurent, perpetual frustration combined with the fact that his own mother likely gave him the wrong life advice for dealing with his inherent shyness. Aside from said snark, something else she said stood out to him:

 _"Well, I can't speak for other girls, Inigo, but I find you pretty entertaining. You've been a good friend since we were young, and I like you a lot. Plus, I know you've got a good heart despite all the...leering. So that's gotta count for something!"_

A shoddy track record with girls, and she still treated him well. Immense mistreatment of Owain and Brady, and she held no ill will against him for it. Attempted (key word) to flirt with Severa, got burned, and she had nothing but kind words for him, although it helped that Severa was also horrible to her.

Something in particular she had said looped in his head:

 _"You've been a good friend since we were young, and...I like you a lot..."_

He sighed, frustrated at the confusion that dwelled within him.

"I must be losing my mind..." He sighed. He threw aside the wildflower in frustration and scratched his neck. Just _what_ was that strange feeling that lingered when she was in his presence?

"How long have we known each other again? For crying out loud, I'm..."

"Inigo!"

He twisted his neck toward Cynthia's direction, rigid as a statue at the sight of her breasts. When and how did they get plumper? Why did they look like they'd pop out of that corset if she so much as raised her arms? Why was he thinking about the breasts of a girl he'd known since they were no older than three years of age?

 _"...What did I send her away for again?"_ He thought to himself, completely, and perversely, mesmerized. What a hell of a moment to think with one's "little head!"

"I got the first aid kit! Get your leg out and lemme fix it!"

Cynthia grinned, grabbing his legs and yanking the loose pantaloons from underneath him. Exposed for her to see, along with Inigo's tears of pain and fire-red face, was a pair of short, white breeches, soft and silken (a luxury granted to him as Prince Chrom's son). Though they were airy and loose, that one very, _very_ particular area of Inigo's, one that she had discovered in books (starting with anatomical books from her father, leading up to all of those heroic sagas and romantic rags that she adored, re-reading all the naughtiest parts _over and over again_...), was _quite_ visible; the underwear shaped it _nicely_. Her cheeks were pink, not taking her eyes off it as she took out a glass jar of Arnica flower oil from the kit.

"C-C-Cynthia, why the hell did you do that!?" He winced as his pulled muscles stretched out further. As he looked up at her, his embarrassment boiled over like a steaming kettle, quite aware at what body part of his she was staring at! "And just _where do you think you're looking!?_ Stop that!"

She looked at him, cheeks still flushed. "I'm not looking at anything, Inigo." She took a small spoon and measured the oil out. "Now point to the part of your leg that hurts."

"I-It's...it hurts on my...my calf..." He was far too flustered to say it without stammering. "It hurts right - ack!"

She took her small hands and gingerly rubbed them all over his muscular calf, letting the oil sink in. His skin was surprisingly soft to the touch - shocking, given the sheer hell they had gone through in the future. Despite being a prince, luxuries like oils were a sort-lived indulgence for him, and it was the same for Cynthia, as Sumia was the daughter of an Earl. She was overjoyed to experience something like this again, for the feeling of oil slipping all over skin was a fun, sensual experience.

In her most heated dreams, she'd feel skin entwined with skin, aromatic with a mixture of flowers and sweat...

"Huh." She could feel the injured muscle, stretched thin. "So that's where you pulled it..." She took more oil and dabbed it on, gently massaging it in with her left hand, while her right slithered upward, ever so slowly...

Inigo would turn into a stewed tomato if he could blush any harder. And speaking of "hardness..."

 _"No no no no no no no no nooooo..."_

He nearly choked as he felt his member go erect from her massage. His mind was half-sunk into the gutter, because if it weren't, he would have made her stop oh-so-graciously rubbing her right hand on his thigh. The more she rubbed, the more she bent over, letting his eye catch her pretty, plump cleavage. He'd lose himself at this rate, his panting becoming more audible.

The sixth time she rubbed him, she coyly looked up at him, her eyes glimmering mischievously.

 _"She's doing this on purpose, isn't she!?"_ He thought to himself, snapping out of his reverie. He grabbed her right hand and forced it off of him, giving her a hard glare.

"Cynthia, stop!" He was still blushing heavily. "You're making me uncomfortable!"

She sighed, ashamed. Cynthia hung her head low as she grabbed some stiff pads and bandage wraps to keep his leg. "Sorry..."

Inigo shook his head, still flustered. "Look, I know this is coming from the world's lousiest philanderer, but what you did was...was…"

Rapidly, he placed his left arm and awkwardly tried to hide his erection.

"I... I mean, I wouldn't even think of doing that to a girl, or...or..." He glanced at her, seeing tears well up in her eyes.

"Oh, Cynthia, please don't cry, I didn't mean to shout like that..." He waved his free hand at her, panicking.

"No," She sighed, wiping her tears. "I shouldn't have done that. I was being a creep! I should be apologizing, Inigo." Embarrassment washed over her like an ocean wave. "...Did I at least ease the pain in your leg?"

"Well..." He carefully shifted his oil-covered leg. The muscle was still weak, but the effect of the oil had dulled the pain. "You did! It feels better already, but - ooh..."

"What is it?" She gingerly asked as she placed the stiff cotton pad on his leg. The sheer amount of embarrassment from him was so thick that even she could feel it.

"It's...it's my...arse..." He whimpered in shame. "I can't believe it still hurts…"

If he did not stop her earlier, Cynthia would've turned to a viler act: taking down his breeches and feasting her not-so-innocent eyes on his naked arse. A flush of heat rippled through her legs at the thought, but if she were to do so, she'd be no better than the average tavern-dweller.

"Do you know how to apply Arnica oil, Inigo?"

"I do..."

"Well, lemme get this cast on you, and then you can put the oil on behind that tree over there. Sound good?"

"Yep."

Like a foal, Inigo made a feeble attempt to stand, his legs wobbling visibly. Cynthia tried to lift him up, but his pain was too great. He felt the muscles pull apart.

"Gah!"

The pain nearly made him snap. Inigo dragged Cynthia with him in a tumble, landing into an enclosed, grassy space below them. They rolled like bulky logs, landing at the bottom with a soft thud. Cynthia cried out in pain as she felt her head smack the ground.

"Owwwie…Inigo-"

Cynthia squeaked.

A groaning Inigo was in quite the compromising position on top of her, his right hand clutching her shoulder and his left arm sprawled parallel to her right. Every plane of his body - and indeed, that particular lump she felt confirmed that his pants were still off - pressed itself onto her, letting off a gentle heat that made her jittery inside. She didn't budge.

For quite some time, she wanted him to play the hero instead, and she the princess, sweeping her off of her feet. To her shame, the thought aroused her.

It was the last thought she had at that moment, for unconsciousness racked her brains. She blacked out, head dropping back.

* * *

"Owowowowww...Cynthia, are you...all..."

Inigo froze on the spot at the sight below him. Because she had tightened her corset, the cloth covering Cynthia's chest had tugged down. During the tumble, a pair of delicate-looking breasts had popped out, exposing themselves for him to see. Not the biggest he had seen, but they were rounded and full, topped by a pair of delicate, circular pink nipples. The most primitive recesses of his mind forced him to fixate on them. Gods, but she looked like something out of a painting: mussed hair; a slender and exposed neck that turned away from him, which tapered to the collarbone; all of that accentuating the nude breasts that he was staring at.

He shuddered. He wanted to give in to his perversions. He wanted to suckle them.

"Haah...hooh..."

Inigo took several deep breaths, willing himself to calm down, to force out the oddball mixture of pain from the fall and sexual arousal that racked his body. Alas, his arse was in great pain. He bruised it more, and the pain was too acute for him to move.

"Shit, it really hurts. This is not good..." Inigo muttered under his breath, feeling his body heat up. "This is _not good at all..._ lord, this is all sorts of embarrassing that I don't think I've ever felt before...oh, Gods above...shit, shit, shitshitshitshiiiiiit..."

There was only one solution to quell his growing erection: think of Owain in a Dark Mage's garb. It was foolproof!

Inigo snickered at the sight of Owain in all of that ridiculous sheer material, with his genitals barely being covered by a single cloth. Owain was so absurd that he'd likely try posing and playing pretend in a garb so obscene that aprostitute looked like a nun in comparison. Why, he'd probably stumble during one of his tirades and expose his cock. _That_ would be hilarious!

He'd expose his cock.

Expose...

His hand accidentally brushed her left breast. It silently shook.

Proving how weak in the knees he was in regards to women, he hardened in under a second.

 _"Dammit!"_

"Mnh..."

Cynthia let out a quiet moan, slowly awakening. Inigo balked.

"No!"

"Ini...go...?"

The air struck them with tension, begging to be cut. Even though she was groggy, Cynthia gazed at Inigo with half-lidded eyes, with glimmering lust flickering in them. There was nary an ounce of embarrassment on her face - in fact, she seemed to be _quite_ pleased with this situation. Inigo's head, needless to say, promptly exploded.

"Inigo...I..."

The boy buried his face below her breasts. "I'm not looking! I'm totally not!" He shouted through muffles. "I'm not a pervert, Cynthia! I'm not! Oh, lord, the embarrassment is eating me from within..." His face was on fire.

"Inigo!" As gingerly as she could with the amount of frustration she had, Cynthia shoved Inigo upright, ignoring his sharp cries of pain. "Stop apologizing, seriously!" She looked down with a frown, covering her breasts with her left arm. "Good grief…"

Even through the unbearable pain, he smiled back at her. "B-But, I..." He still felt his erection throbbing. "This is shameful. I mean, you're my..."

"Um…will you hear me out!?"

He jumped at the intensity of her voice. Her hazel eyes locked onto his wooden browns. Now was not the time to back down. She inhaled, completely ignoring the fact that her breasts were exposed.

 _"I like you, Inigo. I really do...and the past few weeks have been the absolute worst. Even if the others may not like me, even if I..."_

No use stalling.

"I-I've been thinking...I, I came out here alone tonight, and...and..." Dammit! She stuttered, taking another breath. "Inigo, will you listen to what I have to say? It's important to me!"

"Yes, of course..."

Even at the absurdity of where they were now, she had to say her piece. "Remember that battle at the border pass? The one where I injured my leg and Est nearly died?" Inigo nodded his head. "Ever since that day, it's been one incident after another. I break things. I fall over rocks like an idiot. I try, _try_ to be positive, I try to be a good Pegasus Knight because I want to...I _believe_ I can, Inigo, and all the Shepherds..."

The tears came to her at last. Sobs racked her body.

"All the Shepherds, they hate me, Inigo! Nah, and Severa, and my father, and Chrom, they all hate me, they think I'm worthless, they think I'm completely useless!" She thrashed her right arm, sobbing. "A-All that dad does is praise Morgan, e-even when s-s-she breaks things, o-or bullies Yarne - I swear, she kept p-pulling his ears! She does stupid, stupid _shit_ all the time! She's so _spoiled_ and _stupid,_ smacking her head on the w-wall! But mom and dad love her, and dad thinks I'm nothing!"

Cynthia wept.

"I don't belong here at all! What the hell is wrong with me!?" She sniffled. "Heroes of justice are a...ah...they're all _b-b-bullshit!_ I-I-I'm no good to anyone...aaah, I even hurt you more...I'm so s-stupid...stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, _stupid!"_

The tipping point had come. She collapsed on the ground, letting the anguish run through her. "Wh...why do I even bother..."

Inigo felt his arousal subside, letting sympathy take its place.

 _"Cynthia...I...I don't know what to say..."_

He, to the best of his ability, slid over to her, gently tapping her shoulder. She couldn't find it in herself to look at him, shame brimming out of her body. Instead, he said nothing and gently held her, letting her tears fall onto his shirt. Subconsciously, she clung to him.

He became terribly sad, as the one girl from childhood who always believed in him was suffering so.

"Have you truly been feeling so sad for that long, Cynthia?" He tenderly asked her.

"Y-Yes...ah-hah..."

"Oh, Cynthia...you shouldn't doubt yourself like that..."

"Why not…?"

His head craned into her shoulder, his lips near her ear: "We all were able to survive Grima's global onslaught, weren't we? Wasn't that thought to have been impossible in and of itself?"

She sighed with a choke. Though it was true, she still felt to have been one of the weaker links back then. Even before taking up the Pegasus, she was easily the weakest among all of them.

"We argued and suffered, but we still fought. And we lived. We lived, we traveled back in time to set things right, and we've gotten to experience a time of peace...well, an unstable peace, but a peace nonetheless. And here's something..." His lips slid closer to her lobe, making her shudder. "...Among the survivors, Miss Hero of Justice, are a philanderer, a story-teller, a cowardly Taguel, a frightened archer, an elusive Wyvern Rider, a childish dragon, an obsessive knight, a money-wasting mercenary, a yellow-bellied priest, a peculiar mage, my humorless elder sister, and your amnesiac little sister. We're all as offbeat as they come, yet here we are."

It was true. The veil of doubt still lingered within Cynthia, but what Inigo said next had made it lift.

"Cynthia...do you know how sad and alone I...we felt, when we all came here? No, not just now, but even back then...your love of 'justice,' and 'heroism,' and saving the day, all of that...maybe, yes, even I thought it was a bit immature, at least in the beginning." He held her further into his arms. "But you know? Gerome is so dour, and Severa is mean, and Nah is so condescending...seeing you wanting to be a paragon of justice, it's like me and my dancing, you know? It makes people happy. I want to make people happy. And I know you take yourself seriously, but do you know that your energy keeps our morale high? It gives the army something to smile about...and I can tell you, you've done a far better job at that than I have."

"Inigo..."

She clung to him more, shuddering as his breath poured into her ear. "Inigo...I..."

"There's no need to say anything..."

He blushed as he embraced her more. _"I...I hope I'm not foolish for thinking that she...sh-!?"_

Before he could react, the girl in his arms cupped his head with both hands. Tenderly, she kissed his right cheek.

 _"She...I think she answered my question for me..."_

He found himself being embraced by her - it was a tender moment, but it was also offset by the fact that he found his chin buried in her cleavage.

"I'm sorry for acting like this Inigo," Cynthia said softly, her eyes flickering with relief. "But we're going to be busy for the next few days, and...and I, well...I've always liked you Inigo." The desire she felt for him that initially died out was blossoming again.

"I've wanted to talk to you again for a while. Inigo…even if you don't like me back, I like _you_ a lot...a _lot..."_

Inigo inhaled, reveling in a gentle scent that was bathed with roses and jasmine and lilacs. His everything - especially his heart - was in a tizzy, with his pounding heart growing louder by the second

"A-And..." She felt her face light on fire. "I'd always get _so_ upset when you hit on other girls...it's petty, I know, but even when you talk to our friends, like Kjelle or Noire, or...but," she sighed, "I figured me being mad would be better than you being sad, you know what I mean? You being all cheerful kept the others in high spirits and all...but still..."

"Gods, when you put it that way, I feel like a big fat fool!" Inigo lifted his head up and grabbed her - a thrush of excitement coursed through her body. "And now that we're here like this, I, I wish I had seen it sooner..."

Hope sprang anew and eternally for the girl. "…It makes me happy that you said that. But..."

She tilted her head up, finding herself boring right into his gaze. He looked down at her, flush, trembling with an excitement that he couldn't obtain from any old dallying with any random girl.

"...It wouldn't be fair to rope you in if you at least didn't like me as a friend," said Cynthia shyly. It was only fair. "So..."

"So...what?" Inigo asked coyly, his joy beginning to bloom. "It is I who is being unfair. After all, looking back," he said, taking a breath. "We're the ones who had to stick together, trying to make everybody happy. I can't believe I never considered the things we've done together, the times we've had...see? Fortune's fool. But now, maybe not so much..."

"Inigo..."

"In truth," he sighed, growing shy. "I've felt _drawn_ to you. Maybe I always have. Even more than the other girls, I've always wanted to help you stay happy. You among all of us have been striving the most for a happier future, and I've caught wind of the dreams you're pursuing...Even so, I didn't realize that I had such an impact on you all this time, Cynthia." He was blushing in earnest now, his face neutral. "...And I can safely say that you're making one hell of an impact on me now."

"I am?"

"Yes, yes you are." He leaned in, gently smiling at her. "I like you a lot. And you aren't roping me in. I mean it."

"You...In, Inigo..."

All that could be heard were the crickets and the trees as Cynthia and Inigo smiled at one another, faces all aglow. Slowly, gently, they tilted their heads and leaned in - he hesitated for the slightest of moments. Even though all was silent, and he was injured and she obscene in her exposed chest, the sheer level of how _right_ it all felt was good enough for Cynthia. His umber eyes took her breath away as she felt his lips capture hers.

It took their breaths away, drawing themselves closer and drowning in the heat of their flesh. Taking a cue from the books, Cynthia's delicate tongue carefully slid its way into Inigo's mouth, and he hissed. The burn of emotions that rippled through them was like embers, flickering and gentle, but hot all the same. She leaned in and pressed herself onto his chest, her arms clutching at his back.

Inigo gasped, feeling his mind turn into putty. For but the merest of moments, he could have died and he would've been the happiest man on earth.

A tiny sliver of saliva could be felt on Cynthia's lips as they broke apart. Nary a word had to be said. A flurry of flames rose from the embers, settling in their lower regions.

"...I think," Cynthia hitched, her eyes all aglow, "that you're gonna get lucky tonight, Inigo. Right here. Right now."

Inigo's throat clenched. He shook to the core. As if Naga herself blessed him, he groaned and did his damnedest to ignore the searing pain in his ass. He stood and ferociously claimed the girl, mesmerized by her nude breasts, and hauled both himself and her to a nearby stable, kissing her hard and giving the left breast a light grope - a mere tease of things to come.


	2. Flower Picker

Just...take this...

* * *

"Ah!"

Cynthia squealed and flung with delight as she was unceremoniously tossed into a large pile of hay. Inigo slammed the stable door shut and furiously bolted it, already huffing from his arousal. Half from pain and half from lust, he collapsed on top of her and ferociously kissed her, giving her lip a bite. He wasted no time, grasping her inner thigh with featherweight strokes.

"H-Hey," she gasped. "S-Slow, slow down please..."

"Don't worry love," he huffed, his lips grazing her ear. She felt her spine tingle, climaxing with a tiny puncture of wetness from below. "I'm a gentleman who's true to my word..."

The featherweight strokes came to a grinding halt. Instead the hand lingered back, more strong and forceful, kneading and stroking at the calf. Fingers traced the sharp, hilly curve that formed that calf, with the boy feeling a notion of surprise that it was as silky as it was. Nary a hair was to be found as he smiled and prodded the leg. He forced her neck to turn, giving him full access to its skin, and her bitten left ear. She sighed, feeling wetness and teeth on the neck, leaving marks like roses on its surface.

Each little nibble made her arousal - steadily growing even _more_ obvious by the increasing wetness that gathered on the lips of her sex - flicker like flames. As the tongue boldly slid down the neck, its hard tip leaving a thin streak of saliva behind on reddish love-bites, she could feel his hand - with hesitation - reach for one of her haplessly exposed breasts.

"Ah..."

Every little touch plucked her arousal, all parts of the body ready to blossom like tiny lilies of the valley. She felt his body quiver and rumble at the sight of her approving smile; she indulged in a fantasy of hers and, with trembling hands, played with her breasts. Her nipples had become terribly sensitive, all pert; her breasts sinfully jiggled. She smiled, feeling as if she were some lowly tavern wench giving a man some much-needed pleasure. Better yet, and more likely, she felt like a hapless milkmaid being accosted by a perverted farm hand.

She was living some of those horribly dirty fantasies of hers, here and now, and she was _loving_ it. All the more, because she loved _him._

"Oh my..." Inigo let out a small choke at the display. "You're, you're driving me - "

She took his hand and forcefully placed it on her left breast, and he let out a shuddered breath he didn't know he was holding. Carefully, he began to stroke the swollen nipple, finding himself drowning in his base inhibitions at its softness. Cynthia squirmed and let out quiet, quick moans, and she felt her body tingle as his other hand, large and strong from years of using the sword, began to grope her other breast.

"You know," said Inigo, pulling himself up and facing Cynthia directly, "your average maiden would be scared or reluctant during her first time. And I can only imagine the sheer hell that would be forced upon me if I ever tried something like this. But you..."

Cynthia let out a tiny moan as she felt his hands massage her breasts, the strokes itching with excitement. "...Is, is it wrong for a girl to have - ahh, fantasies like this? Or, or..." She shook as the nipples were caressed, and she spread her legs more in yearning. "...I've wanted to indulge in them with you f-for s-some time now - ah!"

His knee brushed up against her sex - soft skin meeting with skin, and Inigo's eyes went wide at its wetness.

He couldn't lie to himself - he hadn't a thought as to how to proceed with all of this. Like Cynthia, the books and idle gossip were all he had to go on. His flirtatious bravado was hollow. But if it were all awash with wetness and she moaning and arched, lips and breasts swollen and puffy with tenderness, surely he must have been doing _something_ right, right?

Her hands gestured at the massive, modest brown skirt that had been tousled and wrinkled. She shuddered as he slowly lifted it up, exposing to him her nether-lips in full. He hadn't fully touched it, and yet a wet spot had grown on the skirt, staining it in her fit of excitement.

She shuddered as the cool air brushed against her vulva. Exposure such as this, laying on a bed full of hay in a gentle embrace, had aroused her quite well enough.

Inigo tentatively took a finger and slid it across the dark, curling hair that had graced her sex. He gently tugged at it as he dipped his head down to her breasts. Letting that perverse yearning take over at last, he began to suckle on her left breast; the skin was silk, soft and lightly scented with berries and jasmine.

"Ah," Cynthia gasped slightly, feeling her toes curl. She nearly cried out, his fingers were _so_ close to her most sacred body part. "You're teasing me...ah..."

In turn, he took the tugging finger and gently lowered it down across the lips below - she couldn't see it, but he was grinning like an idiot. He slid the finger from the bottom, steadily, and moved it upward and down again, gently creating circles within her.

"Mmnh..."

His thumb absently found her clitoris, engorged and swollen. He brushed it lightly, unsure, yet it set her off all the same. She arched up and yelped, reeling in ecstasy as his thumb circled the nub more and more. She shamelessly opened her legs to let his fingers gain entry to her inner core, hips bucking at his finger thrusting.

"M-More..."

"L-Like this...?" He asked hesitantly, pumping his fingers more quickly. She sighed, feeling a wave of pleasure crash down on her. His erection had made his undergarments too tight to handle, yet he still felt flush with embarrassment at the thought of removing them.

"Y-Yes...!"

His fingers curled into a knot, rubbing at that ribbed layer of flesh within her. Whenever she touched herself there, she'd always see stars.

"Ahh!"

His larger, more masculine fingers made her see fireworks. It burst all at once, and she bit her arm to prevent potential passerbys from hearing her cry out in pleasure.

She felt her body tingle and settle as he tugged at the nipples of her breasts, feeling that high finally settle. That tingling sensation melted into putty as his lips captured hers once again. Lovemaking in a barn, Cynthia thought, feeling giddy inside. How taboo, how _naughty_ and _forbidden_ it all felt. Feeling overwhelmed by that taboo, she grabbed the waistline of his breeches and yanked them down, giggling as his erection sprang free.

"Oh my..." She stifled a giggle, comparing his erect penis to a jack-in-the-box. Inigo, on the other hand, was boiling over in embarrassment once more, stuttering.

"C-Cynthia...Gods help me, w-why are you _looking_ at it like that!?" Inigo stuttered, burying his face into her shoulder in shame - and unbeknownst to him, his erection, velvet unyielding, rubbed on her belly.

"Ah!"

A quiver of pleasure racked Inigo's body as the soft skin of his genitals brushed against her core. She lay still, in a trance, half yearning, half nervous. He could see her slight tremors, and Inigo, ever chivalrous, embraced her. Holding your partner in assurance was said to keep anxiety at bay; at least that was what that peculiar noble Virion had told him and the other boys. It was kind of like giving a smile to a sad stranger, but far more explicit. It was working, as her nervousness began to ebb away.

Her arms embraced his neck. Glistening pupils and a tiny nod gave him approval - he was to be the one to take her maidenhead away, and there were no others she would give the honor to.

"Cynthia...are you sure...?"

She nodded once more. She opened her legs and lifted her hips - the books often explained that proper lovemaking was done this way, after all.

"W-Well..." He spoke to himself nervously, in a hushed tone. "Here goes..."

He took hold of one of her legs and spread her sex as much as it could spread, and he grasped his erect member and awkwardly bought it to her entrance. She grasped it, feeling herself grow hotter at its velvety texture, and helped in guiding the head inside.

She gasped and choked - pain was to be expected according to the books, but she didn't fathom all of this unbearable _stretching_ and _pushing._

"Nnh!"

She gasped as his penis pushed itself inside of her, breaking her maidenhead apart and burrowing most of its way through until she could no longer bear it. She wouldn't have been surprised if a small smatter of blood had seeped its way onto her jumper.

She was grasping him firmly, pulling him downward, needing more of the love he was exuding. He could feel how deep her breaths were and was stuck in a rut of guilt.

"It hurts, doesn't it...?" He asked, a pained smile etched on his face. "I can stop if it - "

She kissed him in a fit of passion. Her soft lips sunk into his drier ones, and he closed his eyes and gave in. They split apart and he propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze never leaving hers. She could see that he was as nervous as she was, afraid to bring her pain.

"J-Just go slowly..." She sighed; she felt her genitals tightening in some pleasure she never felt before, albeit laced with that same stretching pain. "It's supposed t-to hurt the first time..."

"Okay..."

Going slowly...he knew in his heart that it would help her ease her way into this, that it would help her get her fill, but the sheer _tightness_ of her insides coiled around his penis like a vice. It felt nothing short of _amazing,_ and he felt himself near the edge from the heat alone.

 _"Oh wow, this is...oh wow, oh wow..."_

His hips began to move. He slowly thrust back, and pushed in again, his eyes all aglow at the sight. The slick, obscene sound his member made nearly made him burst.

"Ahh..."

She moaned and flushed, giving him yet another nod of approval. He slid to and fro, gently, once more, gauging her moans. Her insides were softer than feathers and unbearably hot, and tighter than a coil, and the rest of her body was pert and flushing and showing signs of sweat, drowning in this first go at pleasure - even if it was awkward - and it just felt _so_ nice as he picked up the pace a little, and her moans were _so_ sexy, and if _this_ is what sex felt like, why the hell didn't he have it sooner!?

His answer lied in Cynthia's presence.

Even as he lost himself in a white void of pleasure, he realized, _"Just what if I did happen to have my first time with some stranger...?"_ He wouldn't have won Cynthia's love, that was for sure. And sex was nothing to trifle with. There would likely be some hollow, empty feeling when the act ended. Who knew how the stranger would have reacted? She could have robbed him blind. As he lost himself in the lurid noise of skin slapping skin, he knew that this girl was the right one to lose it to.

"C-Cynthia..."

He threw her arms up and pinned them down, reaching for another kiss. He thrust faster than before, and she cried incoherently, muting herself by biting her lip.

"Inigo...!"

"Cynthia, I'm about to - "

He felt himself tipping over the edge, forcing himself downward. The first spurt happened far too quickly, and he softly grunted, flushing from both the high of his orgasm and potent embarrassment. Even then, Cynthia felt satisfied - no stars bursting in her line of vision, but she felt a lulling, tingling sensation that satisfied her as he felt his seed land within her. Inigo fell on top of her, gently stroking her back, embarrassed highly.

"Oh good God, I'm so sorry Cynthia..." He moaned, shaking his head. "I barely lasted five minutes..."

Cynthia couldn't help herself and giggled. "I'd be silly to believe that all first times are like the sweeping romance novels, Inigo. I'm quite happy, you know." Her eyes fluttered as the flush that appeared on her body began to disappear. "I wouldn't have had it any other way."

Inigo sighed, relieved. "Glad to hear that. I promise you, next time's gonna be different."

"Heehee!"

He gently slid his member out of her and propped himself on his side on the bed of hay, not bothering to cover himself. He smiled as she turned over to face him, pulling her skirt back down - but, to his delight, not covering her breasts.

"Hey, you aren't in pain anymore," Cynthia noted with a grin. "You don't think that doing me healed you, did it?"

 _"That'd_ be a riot if it were true," said Inigo, grinning back at her.

"Maybe that so-called _Karma Sutra_ was on to something!" She giggled again, as did he.

Cynthia wormed her way onto Inigo's chest, and he gently embraced her as he laid on his back. He could see her smiling contentedly, and he returned that smile by gently kissing her forehead. The moon had risen to its highest peak, with its silvery beams serving as the barn's only source of light. As it was small and well off of the palace's beaten path, it had fallen into disuse. While some farming supplies and tools for smithing were stored around them, they, too, showed signs of abandonment. Coupled with the fact that they weren't marching for days, Cynthia and Inigo felt content to lay in the hay. Dewey, chilly remnants of raindrops glimmered like silver on the two small windows that were on both sides of the door. A faint, rolling breeze echoed in their ears, accentuated with a gentle melody sung by the crickets.

"Hey, Inigo..." Cynthia began.

"Hmm...?"

"Were you spooked at just how _quiet_ nighttime can get in this time?" She said quietly, her face contorted in a mixture of wonder and sadness. "Like, I remember crickets back in our time, but half the time there'd be a storm, or fire, or...well, you know..." A ghost of a tear threatened to fall. "...Screams...?"

Inigo grimaced. It bought him back to the night that he landed in the current time - to add to the terror of being alone and drowning in silence, he landed in _Valm,_ and not in Ylisse like he had hoped. He made a living for the two years between the Three Month War with Plegia and the campaign in Valm as an earnest, reputable merc. Smiles and flowers he seemed to others, but on the inside he had been hurting, often going for days on end without sleep. The Great Gate - a massive structure said to have been around during the era of the Kingdoms of Rigel and Zofia, which were, as Inigo learned, the two kingdoms that would eventually unite and be renamed Valm - had served as a personal home base for him. It was far northeast of the continent. He had been stuck alone there, stranded by tight finances, by a lack of direction, and by the time the Three Month War had ended, there had been a continent-wide ban on travel, with illegal, often shady means of transport being the only way out.

He cried his eyes out the first night. The silence heightened his paranoia, but as time went on, he found himself smitten with it. He had always yearned to know what a peaceful night was like back in the future. But what's the point in enjoying something so beautiful if one enjoyed it alone?

"...Yeah," He said with an audible gulp. "Yeah. I got spooked. But I liked it after a while." He embraced her a little bit tighter, brushing his lips on top of her head. Idly, he found himself pulling out her ponytail and brushing the curly strands in his fingers. "I was more afraid of the fact that I was alone...all those quiet nights, they were a cold comfort..."

"You wanted to see Olivia...and Prince Chrom..."

He sighed. When Father had finally found him, it felt like a blow to the gut. Their grievances had been put aside and understandings were reached, but only Chrom himself was oblivious to the fact that he clearly favored his daughter over his son. His breath hitched.

"Yeah, I wanted to see Mother and Father..." He smiled weakly. "Well, I can assure you that I enjoyed _one_ half of that equation...I swear, no matter what I do or say, Father looks at me like I'm a nuisance." He grunted. "Is it terrible of me to say that I regret meeting him, even if it's only a little bit...?"

"In hindsight," said Cynthia, forcing back a sob - both of them, scorned by their fathers. It bought them together, yet it hurt like hell. "Most people would probably tell us it's normal." The tears began to fall. "My father - Rufure, you know, the tactician, he...I wanted to meet him for _so long,_ and yet he's..."

"...Very, very cold. I wish I had seen it sooner, Cynthia," said Inigo. "He wasn't the friendliest when I spoke to him myself. I assumed he was just standoffish, but after Morgan showed up..." He sighed. "Yes, I _really_ ought to have seen it sooner..."

Cynthia huffed. "Well, you can take to heart that you knew what the prince looked like..."

She bit her lip, forcing down another sob. She felt his arms gripping themselves on her tighter, yet it didn't dissuade the tide of sadness she felt.

"Please, Cynthia. Don't cry. What happened with that bandit is done and done. Why, why now that I think about it, you really never _did_ quite meet - "

"It's still inexcusable," she interjected, body quivering. "And that's not even considering the threats that bandit gave me…"

She could sense, feel his eyes bug out. "Cynthia…?"

"H-He didn't, well…you know…" She flushed. _That_ was obvious, given what they had just done. "B-But that bandit, he, um…there was one time where I tripped and broke something, and basically, he said, um…" She cringed. "He threatened me…"

"With a sexual favor, no doubt?" Inigo spat harshly, his hand tightening on Cynthia's head.

"He wanted me to strip for him if I tripped again." She said it in the curtest voice she could muster. "And I didn't. It wasn't like the threat of getting slaughtered by the Risen, Inigo. It was different. It felt just as scary, and so did being alone on that tiny island for so long…"

He gave her the most tender of kisses, planting it gently on her forehead. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Cynthia. It must have been terrible. Now you're making me think what if that damned bandit wanted to do _more_ than just make you strip for him!?"

"I know, Inigo…but…"

She snuggled up to him, grinning. "We're here now. We're all together again, and we've met our parents in their prime. There's still time to get to know them – and we're setting things right, too. I feel much better now, I can tell you that."

A stray robin perched itself on one of the windowsills, chirping and bouncing.

"And we get to experience moments like these now. Kjelle and Gerome were wrong. It was right to come back here. And these nights don't seem so scary anymore!"

"You're right…" He gave her another kiss, this time on the cheek. "Why, I bet if we never came here, I would've never realized how much you mean to me…"

"Inigo…"

She sighed, letting sleep overwhelm her in its gentle embrace. "You make me happy…"

Inigo, too, was sleepy, but felt lighter than air and wanted to bounce when she said those words. He contentedly sighed and joined her in sleep, feeling warm and protected by both the girl in his arms and the serene silence that held them. He brushed off some hay that had clung to her shoulder and inhaled that warm, jasmine-laced scent she emitted. He prayed to Naga in mere seconds of weakness for time to stop, to keep this serenity lasting forever.

If Naga heard his plea, then causing his loins to go erect once more must've been for her amusement…

Cynthia squeaked in surprise, feeling his penis stiffen against her thigh. She let out a giggle and blushed.

"Oh no…" He stuttered, embarrassment overwhelming him once more. "You've…" He quietly inhaled on her neck, aroused by the scent. "I don't know what's gotten into me…"

"Feeling horny now, are we?" Cynthia asked with a chuckle, her eyes all aglow. "Am I really that sexy? Heehee."

He smiled in turn, but soon after his face contorted into a soft frown. Her scent, her smile, her body, all made him ravenous for her. In tandem with the silent, peaceful night, he wanted her too. He was still fighting off some embarrassment, mostly pertaining to his trigger-happy erection, but he was filled with a lust that was softened with love. And given that he came in five minutes before, he wanted her to writhe in pleasure this time around.

"Cynthia…are you…um…do you want to go again…?"

She quietly gasped, her breath jittery in nervousness and arousal. He took her face in his hands and pulled her to him, placing a tender kiss upon her lips. She could hear his pants as he slid his tongue in her mouth, and she was enamored. Her womanhood flared in anticipation, and she grasped his manhood and stroked it – the heat alone made her crave it. As her arousal grew, she realized she wasn't all that tired anymore.

"I'll make you see stars this time, Cynthia."

With that, he turned her over, back on the hay, and passionately kissed her lips, their mouths tingling and hearts pounding wildly. He wanted her more than ever, grasping the strings of her jumper's corset and pulling them apart, forcing the offending garment to fall off; next came her jumper, and finally her top. He gazed upon her nude body, dotted with scars from past and present battles – one large, star-shaped scar from their days in the future past lingered on her left rib. He bestowed kisses upon kisses between the scar and her breasts, teeth catching nipples, making her cry out in pleasure.

"I-Inigo – "

Using both hands, he forced her legs open. His lips slid down her silky skin, gliding all over scar tissue and flesh until it finally reached the curls that graced her womanhood. He flushed, feeling a twinge of hesitation – if only out of fear of not pleasing her enough – and lapped his tongue all over her aroused nether lips, circling and tracing the pearl that sat on top. Her hips jerked and trembled, smothering his mouth with a wetness that made him high.

"Aah!"

She forced her arm over her mouth to mute her soft squeals of delight. A small scream broke through her arm when Inigo's tongue slithered inside of her, and Inigo couldn't help but feel proud. She grabbed his head and forced him closer, slowly grinding her hips onto his face.

"Ah-hahh…don't stop…please don't stop…"

And he complied, circling his tongue around the lips in a frenzy. The scent of her womanhood made him yearn to be inside her even more than before, but he wanted her to have her fill first. She didn't just yell, but _squeak_ when he lapped at the pearl on top of the lips, and his rapid flickering caused soPmething to spurt into his mouth, with the girl letting out one last pleasured yelp.

"Ahh…"

She was already quivering, her body flushing with lust. Inigo chuckled with pride and grinned, puffing his chest. "I've only used my mouth and you're already a mess…you naughty girl, you. Why, I ought to punish you!"

His low tenor made her shiver. Mustering as much strength as she could, she forced herself up and pushed him back, eyes glowing with desire. With a chuckle she pressed her nude form all up against him and latched her hands onto his shirt. "It's not fair! You don't get to punish me if _you're_ still wearing your shirt!" She then tore the thing off with one tug, and the embarrassed moan Inigo let out probably echoed throughout the woods. She chuckles and devours his muscular form with her mouth, greedily nipping him on the chest, on his lovingly built stomach, all the way down to the _pelvis –_

"Wh-Wh-Wha – "

"Aww, what happened to _punishing me,_ Inigo?" Cynthia chuckled playfully. "You're under _my_ control now."

And under he was. With a mixture of power and curiosity, her right hand wrapped around his dick and took a few tentative shakes before stroking it in full. This was absolutely _nothing_ like those nights he'd "grapple with something" (As Owain tenderly put it), yet he still pleaded with her silently: _"Why are you down there and not up here?"_

His query got answered when she wrapped her lips around his cock and _sucked._

His first moan was easily surpassed by the squeaking noise he made when she started to suck, and no doubt the whole damn palace heard him now. He was flushed and panting at the sight of her mouth stretched around his penis, and even with her lack of finesse she drove him _insane_ with pleasure.

As for Cynthia, she liked it. The smell of it was strange and the taste peculiar, but they _were_ his genitals. But hearing Inigo cry out and beg for more made it all worth it, and she felt her nether-lips growing ever wetter at his aroused pants.

Her lips made an audible _pop_ as she released her mouth from his penis, giving it a rest. She then looked up at him, drunk on her lust, and said, "Please punish me, Inigo. Please, talk dirty to me…"

A wild look came to Inigo's face as he sat himself up and grabbed the back of her head. "You…y-you dirty girl. Y-You like sucking my cock, don't you…?"

Saying it was embarrassing as all hell, but he nearly came from her pleading look alone. "You're, you're a lady of legends – ah! – wh-who's saved all mankind, worthy of t-the finest songs a bard can sing, yet here you – ah… - yet here you are, sucking cock like some common whore…" He broke character and yelped amidst the lovingly lavish licks and pecks Cynthia left on his penis. Her enjoyment was plain to see, as she obscenely wrapped her entire mouth around the thing and _shoved_ it down her throat.

"Oh, oh God help me…"

Inigo threw his head back and trembled, whimpering as her free hand traced over a ragged line of a scar that curved across his right hip – a souvenir he got from the future when he, Owain, Brady and Yarne somehow got across a rickety bridge without falling down the massive chasm below it. They escaped with their lives, but he and Owain still endured a few blows from the Grimleal fanatic that lead the Risen that were pursuing them. The dull pain that lingered within him was replaced with a fantastic heat that pooled between his legs, and it spiked into flames when she shoved his penis as deep in her throat as she could muster.

"Oh, oh no, oh Cynthia, I'm gonna come-!"

The heat felt like a firework that burst, and he felt himself spilling in her mouth with a whine and a groan. His hips thrust up sharply and he tugs her hair, forcing the length down her throat. The heat of her mouth prolongs the orgasm for him, and she takes it all in wantonly. Had she not started to violently cough, he'd have kept dancing in the orgasmic aftermath.

"H-Hey!" He pulled her off of him and she choked, having a coughing fit. The semen's burn made tears well up in her eyes. "Are you okay!? I'm so sorry, Cynthia…"

He reached for his discarded shirt and wiped the small streak of semen (which was one of the most enticing things he had seen) from her lip. He rubbed her back as her coughs subsided, and she couldn't help but sniffle.

"Do you need water, Cynthia?"

"No, I'm okay now…hah…"

Inigo's face was a light like a tulip. "I didn't mean to do that, seriously, I just…" He sighed, embarrassed. "I, you, I mean, it just felt so _good_ and you looked _so_ erotic and I just – I just – ugh…" He sighed, covering his face in shame, and Cynthia chuckling like some airheaded farm girl did _not_ help.

"If there were a way to preserve and repeat that squeaky noise you made when I started sucking you off…" Cynthia let out a raspy sigh, licking her lips. "…I _definitely_ would have done that."

She let out a soft whimper and writhed, with the engorging heat between her legs becoming unbearable. On her lips, with what little remnants of come remained on them, she tasted something that reminded her of salt and bitter mead. "And besides, you talking dirty like that was fun…"

"Seriously, to think that _you_ of all people would be the biggest pervert among us." Inigo sighed, half-smiling. "I'm still reeling in shock."

"You don't think that's weird, do you…?" She asked softly, worrisome.

"Don't be silly, Cynthia."

In response he moved to embrace her and placed a soft hand upon her cheek, and she leaned into him. He smelled of currant berries – sweet, hardy berries that made the finest jams and cordials that their new life could offer. It made her feel loved and ravenous, and a blaze of lust that she had never truly felt heated her body like a flame. In their mutual nudity, they found desire. Inigo's lips found their way toward Cynthia's, brushing them with the lightest of force. He then kissed her cheek, her jawline, and her neck, taking the time to nip into the skin. She fell backward onto their bed of hay and opened her legs, trapping him within their hold. In their heated embrace, their tongues curled and slithered against one another, and Cynthia's grandiosity and ham-handedness were replaced with quivers and whimpers and a small gasp as Inigo's fingers found their way toward the clitoris once more. Her back arched and her legs' grip slipped, and his lips slid down to her thigh, biting and leaving a purplish mark in its wake.

"Besides…I could just leave you here and let you writhe," said Inigo, letting the finger that was touching her linger on his lips. His voice was honeyed and sensual. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"F-Fine, go then," Cynthia barked with a blush. "I'd love to see what your dad would do when he sees his son strutting around naked with a big fat boner. Last time I checked, you were a _prince."_

Inigo laughs, feeling himself grow harder and harder. "He'd be singing praises of my member and demand I sire heirs at once…or something." He pressed a kiss on Cynthia's stomach. "And _you_ would be the lady he'd want me to sire with."

"A-And you call _me_ a pervert…"

As their teasing banter ended, silence fell between them. He lifted one of her legs, and with her nod, he guided himself to her womanhood once more, slowly pushing himself inside. She huffed and moaned – the sensation was odd still, but far less painful this time. Her chest constricted as he gently thrust, and they were slow and flawless and _hot._ He cast his gaze upon her face and met her eyes, and the thrall of love overwhelmed them both.

Cynthia's neck craned to the side as his thrusts picked up their pace. Her pants grew rugged yet she moaned softly still, growing less and less coherent as the thick length inside of her _thumped_ and _thumped._ She helplessly moaned as he began bucking in and out of her powerless body.

Heat blazed through her skin. A tight sensation seized her lower abdomen, too much for her to handle yet in his current state, his lovemaking just _wasn't enough._ She taps his shoulder and motions that she wants to move, and he nods and plants butterfly kisses on her. She plants herself on all fours like an animal and spreads herself wide, no longer yearning for love, but for something far more carnal.

She fell forward and his penis relentlessly fucking her made her head spin – breathless vertigo seized her and she felt like she was flying. All of her body went numb as every ounce of heat and awareness pooled itself squarely between her legs, and her body shook every time the flesh pounding her writhed. Her hips bucked back at him, and she gasps as he arches his back and digs deeper, pulling out completely before slamming back in again. She trembles and pants, futilely grasping at the hay and burying her face down, for even she could tell that her face was boiling red and ridiculous to look at.

Deft fingers shoot for the pearl that's engorged and prominent, and Inigo toys with it and sparks her orgasm anew. Cynthia whines and stutters his name and demands more and _more_ as his hips loudly smack against her rear.

"Mnh…more…"

She could hardly breathe as he, in a moment of curiosity, gave one of her nipples a pinch and her bottom a heavy _smack._ Something akin to a cry and a moan escapes Cynthia's lips, and it was _easily_ one of the most _amazing_ things she's ever felt. Touching herself with her own fingers couldn't even compare at this point, and as if to emphasize that fact, his cock twitches and he softly moans.

"Nnh!"

He let out a choke and gripped her hips, dotting her porcelain skin with bruises. The harshness of it all made her clench around him, and it took all his willpower not to come right there. The thrill of those marks, with her uniform allowing only the slightest of her skin to show them off, aroused her to the point that essence dripped down to her legs. Her eyes began to roll, and the sight of her hapless state made Inigo groan softly.

"I want _you_ to dance for me, Cynthia," he said breathlessly as he jerked her backwards. He landed on his back and turned her around, lifting her up with ease.

"Huh – "

As easily as he lifted her, he faced her towards him and she _plunged,_ ass and thighs smacking against his. She screamed with joy and felt that spot of hers go numb once more, feeling far _fuller_ than before.

She remembered how to breathe and drew a ragged breath, but her mind had succumbed to love and lust. As a reminder, Inigo began pumping from underneath, smiling like an idiot and his own mind drowning like hers.

"I _said_ I want _you_ to dance for _me_ ," Inigo growls, and he asserts himself by giving her left breast a tight squeeze.

"Nnh, no, I can't – "

He thrust his cock deep, _deep_ inside her _,_ and a massive jolt shot up her spine, forcing her eyes to roll back. He felt huge, _thick,_ as if he were going to _tear her apart._

She wanted it, and _badly._

When his dick twists around inside of her, Cynthia slowly began to bounce. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched his thighs, marking him for herself. It thrust in, and out, and back _in_ and she could feel every inch of it hitting that dime-sized spot, the spot that made her breathless and put her in a tizzy.

She tightens around him like a coil, trembles, flushes, and moves her hips as much as she could muster. She _loves_ it and doesn't want to stop, not now, not ever.

She loves riding him, being pounded with wild abandon, but more that that, she loves _him._

Oh, how she loved this boy - this _man –_ and she could feel his love in return as he gently pulled her down for a kiss.

"I-Inigo…" She stammered, whimpering in ecstasy. She lifted her hips higher, slamming herself back down with more force than before. "Inigo…!"

"Fall back," Inigo gasped, and fell she did. He pulled her right leg up over his shoulder and pumped with force, grinding on the clitoris and rubbing that spot relentlessly. The burn forced the air out of her lungs and visages of stars peeked through her line of vision. It didn't take long for her to come, and she cried out and bit him in the neck, forcing all of her love in that one act.

"Cynthia…!"

His cry was weak yet potent and his thrusts became twitchy and erratic, and she could sense that he was at his limit. Helpless, she began to go limp as he planted another kiss on her lips. Even in her state, his pulsating cock spilling essence inside of her made her shiver, and she cried out softly.

"Inigo, I…"

Both were dripping with sweat as Inigo pulled out his penis and near-collapsed on top of her. She felt warm as he embraced her and pulled her on the bed of hay, with the veil of sleep hanging over them.

"I," Inigo breathed. He planted the most tender of kisses on her cheek and smiled, his face alight with happiness. "I…love you…"

"Mmnh?"

"I love you, Cynthia, and I mean it," Inigo said firmly but softly, pulling a blanket over them. "I want us to be together…"

"Ah..."

Their newfound bliss was welcomed. Their discussion of it would have to wait, however, for they fell asleep, happy and adrift in dreams that they had never had, especially after spending a good portion of their lifetime living in fear...

* * *

 **FOOTNOTES**

I wish people liked this pairing more...

But in any case, this story will continue!


	3. Hidden Truths

_Rant Time!_

 _Herein lies Fates' Story: Its potential was as bountiful as the deepest spring, yet the result as ugly as a stream ravaged by drought. The drought plagued this poor river with its plot holes as numerous as the average amount of gunshots fired in the average Quentin Tarantino movie, its self-insert Lord whose blandness rivals a rice cracker, a deuteroganist shrouded in mystery for the sake of being shrouded in mystery, a story that's blacker and whiter than a black-and-white cookie, a second generation whose arrival is so mind-numbingly stupid that no words can comprehensively ramble on about it, and finally, the withholding of world-building elements, keeping them locked behind a paywall. As it were, even for the fortunate who toppled that paywall to see the truth, the results were…lackluster, to say the least._

 _But boy, is Fates' gameplay good! And those maps (Praise Conquest)! And a lot of the characters when they aren't involved with the dumb story are actually pretty cool! But oh my God, when I found out about just why and how Owain, Inigo and Severa got to Fateslandia, my main reaction was like that of the Nostalgia Critic screaming "THAT'S…JUST…STUPID!"_

 _So what I have given you is a mixture of liberties and the actual events that I also opted to dump on!_

* * *

 _Hidden Truths_

Three months' time had passed since the Fell Dragon was slain for all eternity. Naturally, the whole world was glad to be rid of him. However, it was also natural that the scars of war were left in his wake.

The cost of Grima's banishment to nonexistence was the sacrifice of his vessel – Robin – leaving Sumia without a husband and their daughters without a father. The two girls coped in their own ways. Cynthia threw herself into her budding love of the whetstone, balancing forging at Sumia's family's smithy and mercenary work. Morgan, meanwhile, withdrew herself into Ylisstol's vast library and rarely left it, eventually replacing the ailing historian who had been in its employ for decades. Both remained optimistic, but their hearts remained heavy. Although Cynthia was able to make peace with her father before his death, a maelstrom of regret still hung over her. Morgan, on the other hand, remained conflicted about her lost memories, as the few she had were mostly of him.

Upon returning to Ylisstol, Chrom formally took up the title of Exalt and began instilling a tirade of reforms and decrees all across the board. Among the first was the formal disbandment of the Shepherds and the return of an actual military, and the Shepherds who did not retire from fighting joined its ranks. Riots and complaints were had among the pacifist-happy citizens of the Halidom, but the Three Month War and the final conflict with the Grimleal were harsh reminders of what could befall a mostly unarmed country.

In contrast to her husband, who had grown unpopular shockingly fast, the citizens were fond of Queen Olivia. She was a consort through and through, knowing very little of politics, but her talents as a singer and a dancer ushered a new era for the Ylissean arts. Relations with Regna Ferox were the best they had been in years thanks to her being Khan Basilio's ward.

Sumia ended her service as a Pegasus Knight and opened a massive stable for raising Pegasi and horses. As both a business owner and a countess in the making, she was rarely seen by the rest of the former Shepherds. The sole exception was a certain carrot-haired thief who often came to her bed, but no guilt took root in her heart, for Robin had not come back to them like the Divine Dragon Queen had promised.

Several births happened on the 401st year of the Ylissean calendar, and both during the final conflict with the Grimleal: On the fifth day of July, Lissa gave birth to Prince Owain; another month later on the seventh day of August, Prince Inigo of Ylisse was born. Celebrations for both boys were initially delayed due to the rising Grimleal threat, and Exalt Chrom's initial reforms kept it going. It wasn't until December when their births were given a formal announcement, and there was no better way to celebrate both than by doing it during Yuletide celebrations. The three-month anniversary of Grima's death bolstered it further.

Alternate timelines were peculiar to behold, as one was never truly the same as another. In the future that Lucina and the others hailed from, the order of births were her, making her the oldest, then Owain, then Inigo, then Brady, Kjelle, Cynthia, Severa, Gerome, Morgan, Yarne, Laurent, Noire, and Nah was the youngest. Already there was dissonance between the future and the present: all the parents had been matched exactly as they were in the future, and Owain and Inigo were born second and third, but in this time, Sumia had not gotten pregnant and Robin was gone.

That fact alone left Cynthia highly distressed. Lucina became a source of strength for the younger girl. The loss of her father weighed on her enough, but Cynthia was also seven months pregnant, with the father of the child nowhere in sight.

* * *

 _Mount Prism, outside the Duchy of Themis - July _

_"Cynthia, maybe you ought to consider moving to the rear guard for this mission…or maybe, I don't know, sitting out entirely…"_

 _Lucina spoke that last statement with a cringe as Cynthia loudly vomited over the cliffs they had spent several days scaling. After the third wave of vomit came loud retching, which prompted Lucina to fetch a small gourd of water and soothe her friend's pain by rubbing her back._

 _"Th-Th-This….*gack*…is nothing…" Cynthia wheezed, eyes watering. "We-We're at the…final hour…*cough*…Grima's in our –* cough* – sights…"_

 _"That's no excuse to fight while you're sick!"_

 _"L-Lucy…"_

 _A linen handkerchief found its way to Cynthia's mouth, wiping remains of vomit from it. Lucina's face changed to that of great worry, her brows turned upward. "This isn't like back in our time. We are not in dire straits like we were then. I worry for this time. I fear for the people who might have already been slain by the Risen. But we cannot save this world fighting with wild abandon. It is because of Father and the veteran Shepherds that I can take that to heart." She smiled – a rare sight, and a lovely one. "We have a far greater chance to save this world, and because of that, we were given the chance to live fairly normal lives, even during missions. You know as well as I that there is no shame in vulnerability."_

 _"B-But that's…." Cynthia's face fell._

 _"But that's what? Tell me."_

 _"But that's why I gotta keep going," she huffed, sitting upright and taking a chug of water. "I was **so** weak for **so** long, and it took my mom's death for me to get the hint!"_

 _"Cynthia…"_

 _Their gazes settled on the horizon that stretched before them. They had climbed high, with the forests below spreading like puffy clouds of green. The sun rose high, shining brightly in the aftermath of some torrential rainfall, with the skies above flaunting a double rainbow that faded into a deep lake. The sight left a calming effect on the pair, with Cynthia finally relaxing._

 _"Isn't this just beautiful, Cynthia?" asked Lucina, willing the other girl to calm down. "Places like these are why I want to save this world. I'll do anything to keep it that way, whether it's pressing onward or resting when needed."_

 _"It is beautiful," said Cynthia. "I could stay here all day if it weren't for our mission. In fact -"_

 _Cynthia's budding smile warped into pain as she began to vomit once more – it only happened once, but it rushed out violently and splattered. When Cynthia began to topple over, Lucina called out for Maribelle and Lissa in a panic, keeping her steady as they all went to the med tent. The noblewomen had Cynthia propped up on a cot and set up a bucket. As Maribelle went to prepare a remedy for her stomach, Lissa placed her hand upon the girl's forehead and sighed._

 _"You don't have a fever Cindy, but me and some of the others have noticed you getting sick like this for the past few days. Sorry, but I'm gonna have to let my brother know you're out of commission until we leave. Unless you get better by the time we reach Mount Prism's summit, you're staying here," she said with an endearing frown._

 _"N-No!"_

 _"Cynthia…please, do as Aunt Lissa says," Lucina pleaded, taking the Pegasus Knight's hand in hers. "Besides, you won't be all alone in here." Indeed, Lucina's hand surveyed the rest of the tent – a few people were left behind, including one of the Feroxi Khans, Kjelle's mother Sully, that odd armored knight that seemed to vanish at will, Severa's father Frederick, and Owain's father Henry, who, despite the odd head injury and the seemingly wicked giggles he let out, was radiating happiness at the bundle in his arms._

 _"Oh," Lucina gasped, jumping when the bundle let out a cry. "Aunt Lissa, is that…?"_

 _"Yep!" Lissa beamed, letting out a breathy chuckle. "Now you know why I went missing right after the fiasco in Plegia…" Indeed, as she mentioned it, she winced in pain and slowly sat down. It was only after she sat did Lucina notice that Lissa swapped out her sage's robes for her cleric garb, and all of its leathers and the crinoline and belts were missing. The gown's cut made it known that her bosoms had swollen considerably._

 _Lucina chuckled at the sight of her infant cousin. It warmed her heart to see both the baby cooing innocently, and his father smiling out of genuine joy and not because of some hair-brained scheme of his._

 _"They look so happy," she commented, beaming. "But you did give birth after a heated battle, Aunt Lissa. How do you feel?"_

 _Lissa chuckled. "I'm still in a lot of pain, but I'm good otherwise. I can't believe it's only been a week. The medic from the palace said that my recovery was the fastest she had ever known! Poor Olivia was on bed rest for nearly two months after she had you, Lucina."_

 _"I-Is that so…"_

 _"Hey hey! Don't look so down!" Lissa smiled and gave Lucina a hearty slap on the shoulder. "She's back in the saddle and dancing like before. I'm sure she'll be fine when Inigo's born."_

 _Lucina laughed. She turned her line of sight to baby Owain once more, smiling at how tenderly his father was holding him. "Say Aunt Lissa, are you still going to name him Owain?"_

 _"Hmm? Why wouldn't I?"_

 _"Well, I **was** the one who told you his name first…you know, the day we ran into him in that Valmese hamlet? I hope I didn't coerce you into naming him that…"_

 _"Don't be silly!" Lissa giggled again, tilting her head as she thought. "Although…I **was** kinda compelled to name him Odin for a short time."_

 _"Odin?" Lucina's brow was raised in confusion. "Why?"_

 _"It's a weird story," Lissa said with a shrug. "It's because I had this weird dream where a bunch of foreigners showed up out of the blue and created a big fat ruckus. A sorcerer who looked a lot like Owain was with them, and he said his name was Odin." She shook her head. "It seemed cool at the time, but I thought about it, naming him Odin's probably not a good idea."_

 _"You think so? Why?" Cynthia asked weakly, sipping the ginger-laced tea Maribelle made._

 _"One: never name a child based on a moment of romantic inspiration. They get mocked and they'll hate you for the rest of your life. I know this, because it happened to one of my fellow clerics. Poor Sylvia…"_

 _"Yikes. Poor Sylvia indeed," said Cynthia._

 _"You can thank Owain himself for the second reason." She softly smiled. "The boy you fight with is no less my son than the baby I just had. Changing his name would be kind of disrespecting him, you know?"_

 _"Aunt Lissa…"_

 _"But that's enough about little ol' me." Her expression turned severe as she walked up to Cynthia. "I have some things to ask you, Cindy."_

 _Cynthia cringed._

 _"I don't know if the others have noticed, but you've been getting sick like this for nearly a month now. You can't keep going like this, you know."_

 _The girl nodded her head, frowning._

 _"Take off your armor, first and foremost. I need to get a better look at you."_

 _After Lissa and Lucina pulled over the curtain surrounding the bed, Cynthia complied, removing the gauntlets, greaves, breastplate, and belts methodically, along with the cutout pants that flared outward. All that remained of her Falcon Knight uniform was form-fitting top and a pair of leggings that were put underneath for warmth and protection. She sat back down, looking curiously as Lissa's eyes roamed up and down._

 _Lissa's line of sight settled on Cynthia's belly, which seemed unusually pronounced._

 _"Cindy…have you been eating more than usual?" Lissa asked quietly._

 _"U-Um…" Cynthia blushed. "On some days, I do. Even on days when we don't fight at all, I eat more. I just get so hungry these days! I polished off three whole quails and a turkey in one night! I don't even know how I convinced my dad to get both of them for me. And yesterday, we passed by a sugar cane field and Laurent got mad when he realized I spent half of my personal funds on the sweets that they were selling there…"_

 _"But at the same time," Lissa interjected, "You get terribly ill like this."_

 _"Mostly in the mornings," said Cynthia. "I wasn't hungry at all today."_

 _It didn't escape Cynthia when Lissa's face turned from one of severity to one of worry. "Anything else ailing you? Have you been nauseous more often? You having some chest pains, maybe…?"_

 _"Um," Cynthia gasped. With the way Lissa was looking at her, she couldn't help but start to panic. "Y-Yes? I have been more nauseous lately. And, well…" Her hands went under her breasts, giving them a light squeeze. "Severa made a jab at me the other day because my boobs got bigger. Felt good at the time, but they kind of hurt now. Actually, I think I need a bigger chest plate."_

 _The panic escalated, and Cynthia's voice grew shaky. "Lissa, why are you looking at me like that? Do you know what's wrong with me!?"_

 _"Cynthia," Lissa began, her voice quiet. "Tell me the truth: did you menstruate at all last month?"_

 _"N-No…I didn't menstruate in May either. Mine usually happens during the middle...of the... "_

 _Cynthia's face blanked. Lucina let an inaudible gasp, for she, too, realized what ailment had struck the poor Falcon Knight._

 _"T-That can't be right…" Cynthia began, tears freely falling down her face, slithering onto her thighs. "You're making japes, aren't you Lissa…?"_

 _Despite her youth, Lissa had given Cynthia a maternal hug, already prepped to comfort. "Cynthia, honey…"_

 _"H-How could this have happened?" Lucina asked, keeping her voice low. "I-I mean," she stammered, blushing, "Cynthia, you…"_

 _The pigtailed girl nodded her head, still weeping with that blank stare._

 _"I, I know of this…don't tell me someone forced you...!?"_

 _"No…" She breathed. "It happened in May...we, um, made love…."_

 _Lissa gave her back a reassuring rub, reaching for a hankie. "Cindy, can you…please tell us who the father is…?"_

 _Before she could speak, the tent flaps were yanked open, and from behind the curtain the three ladies could hear the stampeding footsteps of several of the male Shepherds shouting for a medic. Blood dripped onto the ground below, and in a panic, one of the boys carrying the wounded – Owain– cried out._

 _"Mom!? Mom, where are you!?" Owain shouted in a panic. "Inigo took an arrow to the chest, we're losing him fast! Help us, please!"_

 _With a quick apology, Lissa shot out of Cynthia's cot and guided Owain and Gerome, both whom were carrying a mortally wounded Inigo by the arms and legs. Cynthia let out a sob at his grisly wounds; the arrow was lodged deeply in his left rib cage, leaving his blue Brave uniform matted red. Another wound bled profusely from his head due to a drop from a steep slope._

 _Cynthia found herself hopelessly crying for the boy, and the utterances of his name and the longing linger she had on his unconscious form was all Lucina needed to know just who Cynthia made love to._

 _"Oh Cynthia, it's him isn't it?" Lucina said softly, placing her hands in the other girl's. "My brother's the father of your child…"_

 _Cynthia sobbed. "A-And dad's been threatening him e-ever since he found us together…we've only been together a few times after our first, and…wh, what do I do Lucina!? I don't think dad or Inigo will take this well at all!"_

 _It was Lucina's turn to embrace Cynthia. As Lissa began treating the boy – her brother – she began to grow fearful for what potentially lied in store for them._

* * *

 _ Earldom of Juge, South of Ylisstol, December _

"I'm sorry, Cynthia. I looked everywhere. The scouts Father gave me looked too. I even got inquiries from the Khans of Ferox and a couple of Plegian diplomats who've been visiting the palace. It wouldn't surprise me if my brother's found his way over to Valm. Why he would be there is beyond me."

"I had a feeling. And besides, Owain and Severa have gone missing too. General Cordelia thinks that they all went together since she and Sevvy aren't exactly on good terms right now. Owain's been itching for a little more action too, even though there's no shortage of jobs for freelancers."

"Really now?" Lucina sighed, shaking her head. "Isn't _that_ just wonderful? We slay Grima forever and those three waltz away without a word. And you're two months away from giving birth…"

"To be fair," Cynthia interjected. "He never found out. No matter how many times I'd try to tell him, something got in the way…" She grimaced. "…Including my dad."

"That's right," said Lucina. "How could I have forgotten how feverishly he'd keep you two apart…"

"You would think he'd be more outraged that I was pregnant, but even when I started to show, he never found out." Cynthia rubbed the back of her neck, looking sheepish. "And in a way, I'm happy he didn't. If he did, he'd probably want me to get an abortion."

"I know Robin could be mean, but isn't that a harsh assumption? He _did_ atone for his treatment of you in the end," said Lucina with a wince.

"I know that…but all those things he said still hurt. You didn't grow up with him, Lucy," said Cynthia bitterly. With a tender smile, she patted her now-swollen belly. "And besides! I was terrified at first, but…but I'm looking forward to being a mother now. We've got this whole new world for ourselves to live in now. We can have dreams and jobs we could never have even fathomed getting in our own time."

Her tender smile turned into a dopey grin, the likes Lucina hadn't seen since their days as Shepherds. "And as the heroic sagas say, a newborn child is the ultimate sign of new beginnings and a beacon of peace! It's very poetic, wouldn't you say?"

Lucina couldn't help herself and laughed. "You're right. But being a parent is a big responsibility too. I'm more than happy to help you.

"Thanks, Lucy! I, I know it's gonna be hard…but at least I have you, and mother's letting me raise the baby here as long as I assist with the ranch from time to time." She blushed. "I'm very lucky."

Their gazes turned to the snow-covered fields that were laid out before them. This was the ranch Sumia had acquired after the war, and the two girls sat under a beautiful, whitewashed gazebo that was laced with snow-covered vines. The Earldom that Sumia's father presided over was fertile and blessed with abundant sunlight and enough rain to keep the crops and grasses healthy, allowing it to stay strong and productive during the winter months. As Cynthia was approaching the final months of her pregnancy, her mother advised she take time off from the dankness and must of the smithy and rest at her family's ranch. Both girls were bundled in furs, their faces pink from the nippy air.

"I know it isn't his fault, but I'm still livid at him," said Lucina with a frown. "I assure you Cynthia, when we find my idiot of a brother, I'll…give him a firm reprimanding."

"For a minute there, I thought you were gonna say 'beat him to death.'"

"…I was."

Cynthia giggled. "I know he's your brother and he can be a dumbass, but I him to be a part of our child's life, okay?" As Inigo's visage entered her head, she sighed longingly. "And, um…you know how I feel abut him…"

"You love him still."

Cynthia nodded shyly. "Uh-huh." She grasped her hands together, her eyes filled with longing. "And he loves me in turn. Nothing will ever change that."

"…For your sake, I hope that he feels the same," Lucina said solemnly, gazing at the silent snow.

* * *

 _ The Great Tree of Mila, Northern Valm, two months prior _

"Okay then…uh…you guys ready…?"

"My fell hand and I are ready!"

"Why yes, naturally."

"Can we get this over with already?"

"Uhh…"

Although the hooded man, dressed in an all-encompassing white robe that blinded his visage, was trembling like someone in dire need of food, he was stupefied. The fellow was desperate and in need of some kind of fix, yet he knew in his heart that chances of finding _anyone_ who would be willing to help him were slim to none. His appearance – his true form he had to keep under lock and key - did not help, for the only trait of his that was visible were his pale chin and some sky blue colored locks of hair. He was a living, breathing red flag, and yet the two young men and the young woman that stood before him took his tale at face value – and then some.

"…Are you _absolutely sure_ you're ready?" He asked again, his hands staggering for emphasis. "You can still turn around and go home. I mean, I won't do it, but I could turn you three into chickens and eat you for all you know."

"Uhhh…."

"I-I mean, from what I know of this world, a small army _veeeery_ recently killed a great dragon of darkness for all eternity and even though all is at peace and everybody's all smiles, there's still a lot of work to be done. Like, epic battles leave scars ya know. They don't mend in a day." The hooded man scratched his nose, still baffled.

"We're aware of that…"

"And last time I checked, _you three_ were a part of that very army that killed Grima! So why are you all the way out here knowing you're gonna go to an entirely different dimension where you could die upon arrival!?" The hooded man shouted. "Don't you have family and friends to look after? Don't you care at all?"

"Will you just shut up and accept our help!? We don't need you questioning our personal lives!"

"Well, can you at least answer me this?" The man asked.

"That depends."

"Did you at least _tell_ somebody that you were leaving?"

"….."

The hooded man impatiently tapped his foot, his face still contorted. The sheer stupidity that the three were emanating made him ill. "Well…did you!?"

"Uh…no?"

"WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?"

A massive aura burst from the hooded man like a forest fire. He indignantly waved his arms and screamed, devouring Owain, Inigo and Severa with it. The initial burn was unbearable, but the next wave was far more soothing, despite the fact that the rest of the man's flames destroyed a sizeable chunk of the tree roots they were standing on. When the flames died down, the three children blinked, amazed and afraid at the indignant man.

"Shouldn't we have burned to ashes by now…?" Inigo questioned, rigid as a board.

Severa coughed. "Something tells me he won't tell us _why_ those flames acted the way…they…achoo!"

A long strand of red hair brushed in front of her nose, making her sneeze. She idly brushed it out of the way, scowling and –

 _" – Wait, red hair!?"_

Severa caught her reflection in the water by the tree's roots and gasped. No longer were her locks the earthy, chocolate brown that she had grown up with; now they were as red as her mother's.

"What is this!?"

"By the lovely legs of Lyndis, you're a spitting image of your mother!" Owain gasped as he ran to the small pond where she was at and gazed at himself – and he too gawked in shock.

"What sorcery is this!? My brand is gone! And my eyes, they're - !"

Indeed, his hereditary brand had been removed from his arm, and his eyes were no longer dark violet like his father's. While he found his new jade-colored eyes lovely, he kept feeling up his left arm, feeling naked without his Brand.

Inigo was calmer than the other two, but he still felt shaken at the sight of his own missing Brand. His eyes were lighter than usual, and his hair a soft taupe instead of royal blue. "That was one hell of a spell, Mr. Anankos," he said haltingly. "I take it that you changed our appearances for this little mission of yours?"

"…I did it in the heat of the moment." The hooded man - Anankos - tilted his head in thought. "I'd say that the change was necessary to hide your identities, but now that I think about it, I doubt that many even know where the hell Ylisse or the other countries are anyway."

"I-Is that so…" Inigo absently rubbed his now normal-looking right eye. "It's still a lot to deal with…"

"If you miss your old looks, deal with it." Anankos sighed, still annoyed. "When somebody asks you where you're all from, make something up. Hopefully _some_ of the people living in my world are as gullible as you all are…"

Owain slicked his hair (still blonde, to his relief) back and smirked. "So we're shadowy warriors with a great mission, branded with false identities under the threat of execution lest we be discovered…" He chuckled mirthfully, giddy like a child. "This is _so_ awesome!"

"Are you even listening to me!?" Anankos screamed, veins popping. "What I am asking of you is highly dangerous! And _that's_ your response!?"

"Lemme have my fun…" Owain pouted, crossing his arms. "We know that you're asking something dangerous dammit…"

"I still find your responses completely unnerving." Anankos shook his head. "Besides, even after all I've said, there's nothing in it for all of you. Why do this?"

Severa crossed her arms and frowned. Whenever she'd be pushed into a corner and was forced to drop that frosty exterior of hers, she'd turtle up and blush a little – Owain and Inigo eventually noticed _all_ of these traits. "W-Well…you _are_ in trouble, and deeply at that. It wouldn't feel right to leave you hanging, yeah?"

Anankos was taken aback for a change.

"A-And besides," Severa stammered, "You said it yourself: we were in an army. We slew a goddamn dragon. We have vital battlefield experience that you desperately need! Our army's captain _and_ its tactician considered the three of us some of their finest. They said it _right_ in our faces. So there."

Anankos nodded his head. "Well said, young lady. But I bet even your master tactician would find your course of action unwise, no?"

" _But_ but," Inigo rebutted, "It's not in our nature to turn down someone who needs help, and our master tactician was no different. And, well," He sighed, smiling fondly. "The army's captain was my father, and I can _certainly_ say that for all his firmness, he was compassionate. If he didn't have a Halidom to run, I'd say he'd come rushing to help you, Mr. Anankos."

"…"

"We're choosing to believe in you. Even if it turns out that you completely lied to us, it still wouldn't feel right not helping you!" Inigo winked and grinned.

"…You're as stupid as your father."

 _"Excuse me!?"_

It took both Owain and Severa's might to restrain a now-livid Inigo, who was raging like an angry cat, flailing his arms in a fit of anger. "How dare you!"

"Exalt Chrom is a sanctimonious asshole and as gullible as they come. That tactician could've been a spy for all he knew when he found him on the ground that day. And he's nothing short of a hypocrite either…'one life means nothing under the shadow of millions?' Don't make me laugh." Anankos scoffed. "If it's the life of the _one man_ who saved his stupid ass millions of times in battle and has the patience to deal with his crap, then _hooooold everything!"_ Mockingly, Anankos held his hands up. "Yep, fuck the fate of this world! Who needs to spare generations grief and a pending apocalypse when I have my _man crush_ at my side!? Seriously now…"

"…I retract everything I said," said Severa, glowering. "We are _so_ leaving you hanging now."

"Your true nature lies naked before us, o wicked fiend," Owain spat. "I refuse to stand for someone cut from the same cloth as Gangrel and the Grimleal. Your words are like venom, you ungrateful snake."

"…What?"

"Don't insult my uncle, asshole!"

Before the trio could retort, a stampeding thrush deafened the trio and the hooded man – from a flurry of invisible, purple-hued flames emerged a massive army, semi-visible and exuding a malefic aura. Though mostly invisible to the naked eye, Owain, Severa and Inigo could vaguely see the form of their general: he was tall and imposing, and he had a thick mane of dark hair that reminded them of a lion and ornate, sharpened armor whose helmet horns reminded them of Grima's. It didn't take a genius to deduce that these invisible enemies were akin to the Risen: monstrous, violent, feral, and a yearning for spilt blood.

The three children slowly drew their swords and backed into one another, nervous as all hell at the army's rising numbers. Even with their foreign weapons and stances, the front lines looked weak enough. The rear guard attending to the general seemed far more worrisome. All three looked at each other in the eyes, and it was only just _now_ that they regretted not telling anyone else.

"Damnation!" Anankos shouted. "Looks like they've found us…there's too many of 'em for those idiots to take down…"

A whiff of smoke began to form in Anankos' left hand. He hid it behind his back so as not to alert the invisible army.

"I've no choice…" To which he then thought: _"And they were considering leaving me anyway…"_

"Hey kids!" Anankos shouted, drawing their attention to him. "Look, look! Your friend Lucina's getting eaten by a bear!"

"What!?" Severa shouted. The panicked trio all shot their eyes toward the direction Anankos pointed at.

It left the perfect opening for the misty smokescreen he created and threw. In the children's confusion, he knocked them out one by one and unceremoniously stuffed them into a massive canvas satchel that he picked up from a Roseanne marketplace. He was unnaturally deft in packing them, for the confused invisible army could not spot him as he ran out of the mist.

"…And here I was, assuming I was in danger," Anankos sighed as he began his inter-dimensional warp, huffing as his sack began to squirm. He turned his face to the sack, frowning as the three began shouting from within it.

"Sorry, you three…I'm between a rock and a hard place. You have nobody but yourselves to blame for wanting to help."

The warp was beginning to form – he was high, high above the Mila Tree, and within seconds it began to disappear from his sight. The streams of light and tunnels of wind that permeated the space between worlds began to draw him in. It could make a weaker man nauseous, but Anankos found it strangely comforting.

"And now…to Valla."

* * *

The land he called "Valla" was in his sights.

The warping tunnel vanished. What was once blue and glimmering like stars on the ocean was replaced with an empty, forlorn sky that was glowing yellow and orange from the sunset. After what felt like an eternity, Anankos found himself gazing upon the familiar skies of the invisible kingdom he called home. Ever since the kingdom's fall, time flowed erratically – there would be times when the day would last but an hour; other times, a week would go by before he would see another sunset. If it were not for the vast threat that wanted him dead – the same that destroyed this once-pristine land – Anankos would gaze at the sky for hours, basking in the setting sun and the gentle breezes that embraced the sleeping stone forts and the floating isles.

Alas, this was not meant to be.

He unceremoniously threw the canvas that held his captives onto the ground and propped himself against a nearby granite pillar. After a fracas and a half, the three children emerged from the sack, all of them seething in anger.

"Gah!" Owain was the first to emerge, gasping for air and uncharacteristically boiling with genuine anger, as opposed to his fantastical bravado-like fits of passion. "You are appalling to behold, Anankos!" He shouted, gritting his teeth. "We bore our hearts naked to you…you spit on us and bereft us with insults, and you have the gall to kidnap us…"

He uneasily looked around, unnerved by the floating rocks and inverted lakes. The unfamiliarity of this place and the stench of the dead – a stench he and the other children knew all too well – wafted his nose and shook his senses. He was livid, as were Inigo and Severa, but they were trapped in a corner. Taking a breath, he forced himself to calm down.

"…But we _did_ initially agree to help you," Owain said at last, sighing in defeat. "Gods, I so want to leave you be, but now we're trapped here, aren't we?"

"For the time being, yes," said Anankos.

"And arguing with you won't help," Inigo added, still visibly upset over the insult of his father. "Let's just agree not to verbally spar for a while and try to get along. Both the three of us, and you, Mr. Anankos. Does that sound fair?"

"...Very well." The man nodded his head, remaining quiet as the three took in their new surroundings.

"What _is_ this place anyway?"

"That waterfall is upside-down," Severa noted. "That's…different."

"This is the once-great Kingdom of Valla," said Anankos, flourishing his hand. "This was… _is_ my homeland. Now it's little more than a wasteland. The sole citizens of this place are little more than puppets of the dead."

As if to make a point, Anankos pointed an ivory finger at a wafting flame that flickered in the distance – a semi-visible soldier, trotting on a horse and wrapped in robes that reminded the children of the Valkyrie mages back home. Despite that connection, however, the figure itself appeared to be male.

"Risen...!" Severa gasped quietly.

"Hm?" Anankos looked at her, confused. "That was a Vallite soldier. What is this 'Risen' that you speak of?"

Severa stuttered, thrown off guard. "U-Uh…they're like…zombies. They were foot soldiers of the Fell Dragon when he invaded our world."

"Hmm…" Anankos pondered. "The invisible soldier you saw was likely a citizen of Valla during its prosperity. If what you said is true, then perhaps the Vallites are not so different from these 'Risen' of yours."

"I-Is that right…"

The three looked around uneasily. Rolling with the punches was their only option at this point.

"S-So, Mr. Anankos," Inigo stuttered, visibly sweating. "Did you coerce us here to restore this kingdom or something…?"

"…In a way, yes. But your real objective is quite different."

"I don't understand."

Anankos sighed and sat down. "That's because I didn't tell you my story yet."

"And you weren't gonna tell us until you dragged us here, of course," Severa said sharply.

"Hey, who were the three idiots who believed me _without hesitation?"_ Anankos sighed. "Anybody with an inkling of wits would jump on the chance to take you in before telling you the truth!"

The three grunted, wallowing in a metaphorical defeat.

"In any case…this story probably sounds familiar to you," said the hooded man with another sigh. "Once upon a time, in this very kingdom, was a dragon…"

He waved his hands at himself, expecting the three to immediately deduce the story – it was nearly identical to the legends of their world, as he had learned. Alas, judging by their dumbfounded looks, they weren't catching on…

"…And the dragon helped his fellow humans build this kingdom, and he loved them, they loved him back…." He circled his hands again – no response. "So one day, the dragon's animalistic urges began to surface, so in order to force them away, he – oh, for pity's sake! You really _don't_ know how this story ends!?"

"Should we…?" Inigo asked nervously.

"The urges drove him mad! He gave power to the Vallite Royal Family – okay, he gave them the power over a _song_ instead of a sword, but dammit all, the basic principle still applies!" He shouted, shaking his fists indignantly. "Over time, the dragon's blessings to the Royal Family increased, but he killed the king – his best buddy – in a fit of anger, and mankind despised him for it!"

"That's terrible," said Severa. "I feel sorry for that dragon…people can be cruel, can't they?"

Instead of a kind repose, Anankos hissed. "Are you idiots really telling me that _this_ story _isn't_ similar to the stories of your Earth Dragons!? Are you all that dense!?"

"What…?"

It took all three of the kids to put their heads together and fully realize Anankos' statement. With a trio of gasps ringing from their throats, they finally understood: this sad tale was the same old story of the dragons from their own world.

"I _finally_ get it now!" Owain exclaimed, eyes bugging. "Anankos is just like the ancient Earth Dragon Medeus! Holy shit!"

"Yeah, yeah," Anankos sneered. "If I had them, I'd give you a cookie and a small jar of apple cider, Owain."

"Okay," Inigo said slowly. "So this dragon killed his best friend…did he go into isolation, like our dragons did?"

"Bingo," said Anankos.

"And…well, there are many things that I guess could have happened," the boy said again, rubbing his right eye. "If I recall, there's other dragons going mad, and during the Akaneian Era, they had their own country…but then there's also the humans that served for the Earth Dragons, like Garnef, or Manfroy from the Jugdrali Era…"

"We have nobody of that sort over here," said Anankos, "But what the dragon _did_ do was, in his final moments, tear out his own soul, hoping to preserve and protect it from his own insanity. As time passed, the soul became sentient, taking on human form."

"…Huh!?"

"And here's a _big_ shocker," Anankos spat, facing Inigo. "Guess who that sentient soul is?"

"…You are!?"

"Ring the bell, 'cause you just won a prize for guessing correctly!" Anankos sang, snickering. "…Well, I'd give you a prize if I had one to offer."

"Sure…" Inigo sighed, for even his patience was waning.

"Hehe, the looks on your faces are hilarious as hell," Anankos snickered again. "Well, here's one for you: after wandering aimlessly, I found _true love!"_

"Really now?" Owain sighed. "We're not as dumb as you think…"

Anankos became genuinely wistful – a sharp contrast to his behavior so far. "… _This_ true love that I speak of is actually genuine, even if the woman I fell for was kind of a schemer. But alas, she was the younger sister of the last queen of Valla before its destruction…After my body and soul were split, I wandered aimlessly after suffering from a severe bout of amnesia – " Anankos giggled at that last statement, and Inigo in particular frowned. "She found me and gave me reprieve. After some horrible awkwardness on my end and getting over her inferiority complex on hers, we fell in love…"

His snarky demeanor fell for a moment – Anankos sighed softly, hand on his cheek. Severa loudly gawked when a faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

"…We fell in love, and we made love. Lots, and lots, and _lots_ of love. I mean, all-night-long lovemaking like in the poems." His hands went to his face, nearly _swooning_ at his clandestine memories. "Lovemaking so intense that her cries could wake the dead…mmm, yes, how she'd cry out and shout, how she spread her legs like – "

"TOO MUCH INFORMATION!" Owain screamed, his face (and the others') all red and glowing like a firefly. "Gawds, just give us our mission already!"

"Aww, but I was getting to the best part…" Anankos huffed. "Damn prudes, ruining my fun."

"W-We are _so_ not prudes, you jerk!" Severa shouted, flustered.

"You're either prudes or you're virgins," Anankos said with a chuckle. "Only prudes and virgins react to a good sexual romp like that…" He scanned the trio and smirked. "…And I'd say that two of you haven't done the deed yet. You have no idea on what you're missing out on."

If he hadn't said _two_ out of three, Severa would have kept stewing in her anger. "Wait – _two?_ I think you're mistaken, Anankos. There's no way we all…um…you know. What with the war we've finished and stuff. There was no time for that." She made a sly grin at Inigo, and he squirmed in embarrassment. "Besides, there's no way that the world's worst womanizer over here could get laid."

Anankos made a lopsided grin and turned his gaze at Inigo. "Really, Severa? Are you _sure_ of that…?"

She flushed harder than humanly possible, and turned to Inigo. "No way…no fucking way…" She pointed at him. "Is this ass _seriously_ trying to convince us that _you,_ of all people, got laid!?"

"And that's not all," Anankos chirped, facing Owain. It was his turn to flush and stammer. "This lovely, imaginative gentleman over here might not have gone all the way _just_ yet…but he _did_ get pretty far at one point. Am I wrong, Owain?"

Owain whistled, twiddling his fingers. Epic adventures were promised, yet when Anankos opened his damn mouth, he missed Noire and her passionate kisses. And he missed them _terribly._

"Owain…" Inigo sighed. "Please, tell me he's lying. Please tell me that the dork with a book full of made-up weapons and shit _didn't_ make out with Noire…this can't be real…"

"You know, after getting owned by Brady and Gerome in your little charm-off, I thought you'd know better by now, Inigo," Owain hissed. "And yes, I made out with Noire. You can blame Sir Frederick the Cockblocker for 'saving' my purity." He blushed harder. "Although I wonder if her sucking me off counts for _removing_ said purity…"

"She _WHAT!?"_

Severa was growling like a dog, infuriated and indignant that, somehow, the two idiots who were with her had engaged/nearly engaged in coitus before she did. Laying that thick insult on her father did _not_ help.

"Hehehehe...Did they just touch a nerve, Sevvy?" Anankos giggled like a girl. "I take it that Miss Meany Prudeface is the daughter of this 'Sir Frederick the Cockblocker?' Hoho! No wonder!"

Anankos tugged at the strands of hair at the end of his head. He became somber once more, as instantaneously as he became lighthearted and crass. "…Well, as I certainly _hope_ that you all know, lovemaking with endless abandon tends to get a woman pregnant. As it were, our relationship bore fruit. We had a daughter."

"You have a child…" Inigo said softly. He stared at nothing in particular – he reverted to his thoughts, with Anankos' words about fruit and lovemaking bothering him.

"Alas, as much as I wanted it to last forever, our little life together was shattered when my body – the dragon, trapped in his own madness – began encroaching the land. My memories had returned to me, and I forced Mikoto to take our daughter and flee Valla. Her sister Arete, the last queen, had a daughter of her own, and the four of them wound up fleeing together. I haven't seen them since."

"Was your daughter young when they fled?" Owain asked.

"She was but an infant," said Anankos. "Before she ran, I had her swear that she would never, ever speak of me to her until the time was right…I did not want to bear the child with the fact that her father had sinned on a great scale. Some truths in life are better left unspoken. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I wanted my greatest wish to come true, then withholding my daughter's origins would do nothing but bring harm in the long run."

Anankos gazed up at the distant sky, now a flourishing reddish-orange, with clouds wispy and billowing like flames. "We must confront our inner demons eventually in life. It will not be easy for my daughter to know the truth about her father, but the truth will likely be crucial in saving this kingdom – nay, this entire world…and maybe she could learn from it."

The three children looked at one another – determination found its way onto their faces. This was uncharted territory for them, but this territory was needed. They accomplished their life's mission in the other world, yet in that world, they were displaced.

"Now that you know my story, I shall tell you your mission – or rather, my greatest wish."

The children paid rapt attention, albeit uneasily. Anankos directed their attention to a small tide pool that was nearby. A magical stream of water gravitated around his fingers. With several gentle flourishes, he drew out what appeared to be a map on the pool, with its landmarks and outlines dark and rippling, emitting fizzles of bubbles.

"This kingdom, Valla, is actually hidden below a great chasm on this sprawling continent, which is named Sophros." He pointed to the massive, jagged line in the middle – the chasm. "While Sophros has seven countries, two overshadow the rest, with the chasm dividing them: the Kingdom of Hoshido, to the east, and the Kingdom of Nohr, to the west. I know not of where Arete and her daughter fled to, but I do know that Mikoto now resides in Hoshido." Anankos pointed to Hoshido, shown to the right of the deep line that noted the chasm on the map. "I have spent so much time fleeing from the dragon that I do not know where in Hoshido Mikoto resides specifically. Last I had seen her in my dreams, however, I saw her in one of the kingdom's many fine palaces. It is likely that she managed to find sanctuary with someone of the upper class, which is a boon for both her and for all of you."

"If she's living with a noble, then it'll make our search for her much easier," said Owain, pondering. "People will be more likely to know her by name."

"Exactly. The first step in your mission is to reach out to Mikoto and try to get friendly with her and our daughter. I will give you new names and a new wardrobe to help, but…"

"But what?"

Anankos tilted his head, sighing heavily. "I probably ought to have made your disguises a bit better, because with the way you three look now, you look like you'd fit in better in Nohr or one of the other western kingdoms."

"Is that a bad thing?" Severa asked.

"If tensions between the two kingdoms weren't so high, it wouldn't be. Nohr is affected with a horrid reputation of being aggressive towards the other kingdoms, but they are far more welcoming towards immigrants. A foreigner can start from scratch in Nohr more easily for a hodgepodge of reasons, and this is despite the fact that the majority of the country is saddled with bad weather and poor farming conditions. Hoshido is more tranquil, but their reputation as a xenophobic nation still lingers in a number of other countries. Heritage and lineage are a big deal over there, especially among the upper classes. I can easily see you three struggling in getting good with the nobility…" Anankos sighed again. "Mikoto probably got as high up the social ladder as she did because she practically looks like a stereotypical Hoshidan woman…dammit…"

"Well," Owain said, his eyes glimmering with an idea. "Why don't we go to Nohr instead and start from there? We could be diplomats. Or traveling merchants! If Hoshido's xenophobia is that bad, then why not try a different approach?"

"Hmm…that's actually a brilliant idea," said Anankos. "Time is of the essence on multiple levels, but a more indirect approach is likely your only choice. With this in mind, your aliases and clothing will more aligned with the western kingdoms. Now I know it's redundant, but please, try to get to her as quickly and safely as you can. There has always been animosity between Nohr and Hoshido, and from what I have witnessed, tensions are going to boil over soon…and you can partially thank the dragon for that too."

"So the dragon you split from…if I understand right, he's wrecking havoc on Sophros too?" asked Inigo.

"Not quite 'wrecking,' but he's likely causing discord from the shadows, even as we speak. He's taking advantage of the kingdoms' age-old hatred of one another…how he's going about that, I know not of, but with his hatred of humanity being that potent…"

He cleared his throat. "Now, back to the topic at hand. After you get acquainted with the two of them, you are to take our daughter on a quest. There are five divine weapons that this land hosts. She is to find them all and make her way back to Valla."

"And when we come back, what do we do then…?" asked Severa.

"…You are to lend your strength to her as she uses the divine weapons to defeat me," Anankos huffed, sighing and shaking. "The Dragon of Silence…The dragon I split from, we are one and the same. You, and my daughter, must kill the dragon…and me."

The three children gasped. In response, Anankos let out a bitter laugh.

"Why are you acting so surprised? I saw what you children went through. I saw that the dragon that ravaged your world had a human host. That human host had a family and a livelihood." He shook his head. "The man, your tactician, knew that his death would bring peace to the world, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness and depriving his family of a father."

Inigo was struck by sadness. Cynthia immediately popped into his head – for all of Robin's mistreatment of her, she still saw him as a father. In his last days, Robin found respect and love for his older daughter at last. He could clearly remember the love and affection he had for Sumia. He could recall Cynthia's small victory when he _finally_ gave Morgan an earful and acknowledged his favoritism.

 _"Maybe if he had lived, then he would've approved of us being together…"_

As he thought, that nagging feeling tugged in his gut again. The more he thought about her, the more _off_ he felt...

"I wouldn't be surprised if an all-out war broke out between Nohr and Hoshido. Perhaps they'll both be destroyed. Perhaps they won't. Either way, no matter what happens, you must make it a point to kill me. If I die, then, at the very least, there will be no massive threats lingering over Sophros."

He sighed, looking down at the grass. The sun was finally disappearing beneath the clouds, its rays futilely reaching outward as Valla became veiled in darkness.

"What happens afterward is up to you. You can stay on Sophros, or you can go home." Drawing their attention back to the map on the water, he pointed at a northeastern mountain range, where a massive gate was etched. "This is Sophros' answer to your Outrealm Gate. It is the Dragon's Gate, and like the Outrealm Gate, it serves as a gateway to other worlds. Few know of its existence, as you'd expect. I suspect that you have used that gate to travel from your ruined future to the peaceful one you saved?"

All three nodded their heads slowly, still emotionally strained.

"Interrealm travel is hazardous, as you all know. It is extremely difficult to actively control which world you wish to travel to, even for seasoned travelers and beings of power. This is why I left something in the sack I trapped you all in."

Right on cue, said beacon – a crystalline sphere no bigger than a marble – rolled out of the sack. "That little thing can directly take you to whatever world you wish – it is among the most arcane of artifacts, and as such, it can only be used once. When your quest is over and you wish to return home, hold that marble up high and think of your homeland when you go through the Dragon's Gate."

Anankos flourished his hand once more. With a splash of water, he turned his tide pool map into an actual one, handing it to Owain. "This map will help you get around. Important landmarks and cities are noted, along with the Dragon's Gate. When you leave this place, I will give you a satchel with a guidebook and some basic supplies that I salvaged from various ruins here. Oh, and one more thing…"

Although he said it in a snarky fashion, the hooded man frowned. "…Your quest will be difficult not just because of the trials and tribulations of navigating a land that's foreign to all of you, but because the name Valla itself is cursed."

"Cursed? How do you mean?" asked Inigo.

"The dragon has cast a curse in that mentioning Valla by name outside its borders will kill the one who mentions it. It is not just speaking its name either. Write it down, and the parchment you wrote it on would vanish, or the sand you etched it on would attack you. Even calling it by another name can rouse the dragon's suspicions. You must take extra care in addressing this invisible kingdom. Riddles and whatnot will help you here."

Owain huffed in annoyance. "This isn't helping at all…and that's a terribly convenient curse to come up with, isn't it?"

"Give it a test run when you leave this place. I dare you."

The three silenced themselves. Plain on their faces were the insecurity and doubt that festered within them, and Anankos cocked his head. "You know, if you want to go home right away after I send you out of here, you totally can. You won't be hurting my feelings if you do…or am I missing something here?"

Owain sighed, his face cast in sadness. "Look, Anankos…we took you up on your request, because, yes, we like to help others. We don't like ignoring cries for help, even if the person needing it is suspicious as all hell. But you know of the fact that we three, along with the soldiers we grew up with…we're disowned by time. Our home isn't really our home per se."

Anankos nodded his head, listening.

"We met our parents. We learned of the glory days of our world. We were able to live normal lives, even when we were fighting a terrible war. And even though we were unable to change parts of the course of fate for that world, we won in the end. We were able to save the world from falling into Grima's clutches." Owain looked down, ashamed. "And yet…"

"…And yet you feel as if you don't belong there."

Severa and Inigo also looked down, shame creeping up on them.

"You were all left adrift when your quest had ended. I can imagine that all of you must have felt lost. After all, your purpose had been fulfilled. Your homeworld – your time, rather – was wiped out. What else was there for you to do? You all want to go home, but you have no home to return to. And with my proposal you all get to start another new quest, save more people, fight more battles…" Anankos shook his head once more. "…I ought to scold all three of you. But you also accepted to help me, stupid as that was…"

"I sure as hell _feel_ stupid doing this now," said Severa. "I haven't felt this full of doubt since the night back in our future when Ylisstol and our village were razed…"

Inigo nodded his head in agreement. "You just _had_ to remind me of that…" He gazed at the now-set sun, seeing the first stars peek from overhead. "Even the night sky seems different here…even back home, the skies there and in our future were similar, even when ours was filled with smoke…" He frowned. "I miss it already…"

Owain, ever the optimist, shook his head. This was that _something_ he had been yearning for for a while now, ever since Grima's death. They chose to believe in Anankos. He wasn't ready to lower his tail and go home.

"Perk up guys!" Owain suddenly shouted, grinning like an idiot. He gave his friends two hefty slaps on the back, making them shout. "We've made our choice, yeah? Why not take this chance and learn about a whole other world? We practically did it already!"

"It's not the same, dummy…" Severa sighed.

"Well, we can't go back now," Owain huffed. "I mean, we come all the way here and we just go home, that's kind of dickish, don't you think? And besides, if we just go home right away, we'll probably regret _that."_

"But Owain…"

"But _what,_ Severa?" Owain began to frown. "Do you want to do something different or not? Do you want to explore this new world, or go back home and have to deal with General Cordelia and all her nonsense?"

"H-Hey now!" Severa spat. "You leave my mother _out_ of this!"

Before Owain could retort, a small explosion caused the island they were standing on to rumble. The tremor was small but potent enough to throw the four of them off balance.

"What was that!?" Inigo shouted, reaching for his sword.

"Vallite soldiers, no doubt," said Anankos gravely. "We've been caught. I'm honestly shocked that I was able to tell you as much as I did."

Anankos waved his hand over the tide pool, forcing it to expand. A small whirlpool emerged from below, swirling like a vortex. "When you go through here, you'll emerge at the border between Nohr and Hoshido. It's called the Bottomless Canyon on your map. Now one last thing, you three: Will you go home, or will you accept my mission? Once again, you won't hurt my feelings if you chose to go home!"

The three children looked at one another: Inigo to Severa, Severa to Owain, Owain to Inigo. Fast-approaching danger shoved aside whatever animosity they felt. Owain, ever the motivator, put his shoulders on his friends'.

"I want to help him, guys. Even if he did kidnap us," he said determinedly. "When he mentioned Robin, I…it made me remember why we went to the past in the first place. We risked everything and survived for many reasons, but one of them was…oh man, this sounds cheesy even from me, but it was because we held on to hope."

"Owain…" Inigo sighed. "That may be true, but it took a string of pragmatism and miracles to defeat Grima…I want to believe in Mr. Anankos, but who knows what'll happen here?"

"That may be true, but…remember his story? How people grew to hate him because he gave in to his urges? The peoples' fears weren't unfounded, but it's not entirely his fault either…I want for this man to have faith again. He's so sure that we're gonna go home. I at least want to prove him wrong on _that_ front."

"Faith, huh…" Inigo said quietly. At once, he thought of _her,_ and her believing in him, being at his side, keeping faith in him even at his worst. "…Perhaps you're on to something, Owain." He smiled softly. "Besides, I guess it would be pretty damn cool if we saved _another_ world…"

Severa huffed in annoyance. "Ugh, you're both hopeless _."_ She twirled one of her pigtails, sighing softly. "Still though…what he said kind of hit home. Sitting on our asses and stewing in regrets didn't save us back then…"

She smirked, to the shock of the other two, and winked. "Damn you, Owain! You've gone and gotten me fired up. I wanna prove him wrong!"

"Then it's decided," Owain said with a smirk. He gestured the other two to face the hooded man. "Anankos! Take comfort, friend! We three paragons absolutely refuse to abandon you in your darkest hour! Grant us our guises…we will fight for you until the end!"

The hooded man was speechless. His timing was terrible, for a score of Vallites were approaching.

"…You're serious?" He asked with a small gasp.

"Damn straight we are! We've gotten this far by shutting out our regrets and having faith in others…isn't it time you did the same?" said Severa with a scowl.

Anankos chuckled once more – but the smile on his face was a genuine one.

"…You three really are stupid. But you know, you may be right. I'll have a little faith in you guys. I'll hope that you'll see my wish through."

"See? Was that so difficult?" Inigo asked with a grin. "And you've got quite a smile there, you know."

Anankos chuckled. The cockles of his heart felt warm – warmth that he thought he had lost forever. He couldn't bask in it for long, however.

"It doesn't take my senses to know that there's dozens of soldiers coming. Even with the blessings I am about to bestow upon you, they'll still overwhelm you. I'll make this quick…"

Energy began to gather into the man's hands. Water pulsated around him like a wave on the sea, gathering above his risen hands as a glimmer of light grew above them.

 _"As the ruler of ancient knowledge…as ruler of the world when it began…blessed with the light of the land of rainbows, in the name of the First Dragons, I bestow the gift of power upon thee!"_

The chant ended, and the water and light climaxed around his three new champions. The magical waters transformed their clothing, all of them gasping as their new uniforms settled with a wet chill. The chill, however, didn't dampen Owain's enthusiasm in the least.

"All right!" The newly-garbed Owain pumped an arm up in excitement. "I've always wanted to be a mage!"

Inigo and Severa were simultaneously in awe of their own new mercenary armor – padded doublets with star-shaped décor, new, elaborate shoulder guards that were lined with gold, fresh new tunics and leggings, all in blue for him and red for her – and red with embarrassment at Owain's magical wear, if one could call it that. It somehow was even _skimpier_ than the Dark Mage fare that Plegians were infamous for: the translucent silk cut right down his chest, exposing flesh and drawing attention to his swordsman's figure, and instead of cloth, he wore yellow skintight pantaloons that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Indeed, Severa felt her face burn at the tightness of his bottom and the shape of his… _equipment._

"Oh _gawds,_ Anankos…" Severa sighed, covering her face. "Thanks for the new threads – they look great, and I feel power flowing through me, but _why_ does Owain look like – like – _that!?"_ Owain whined indignantly at her jab.

"Well I, for one, approve of our new outfits," said Inigo with a smile and a blush. "And if I may ask, what are our aliases?"

"With my blessings, you have become my champions…" Anankos said softly. One by one, he pointed at the children, calling them out by name. "Odin. Laslow. Selena. These are your aliases from this point on. Do not forget them."

"Odin…" Owain trembled. "Already I shiver with great excitement…such an awesome name!"

"Your outfits and names aren't my only gifts – I have bestowed upon you a small fraction of my power for the battles you will be facing ahead. Hopefully, it will come in handy for all of you," said Anankos.

"Thank you, Anankos," said Severa with a wink. "Thank you for your powers…and thank you for believing in us. We won't let you down."

Before Anankos – who let out a choke, or so the others thought – could reply, the Vallite cavalry began to approach. In a panic, the man opened the tide pool's portal further and began pushing the three children toward it.

"They're almost here! Hurry up and go through the pool! Go on! Make haste!"

Struck by clarity – which they _really_ ought to have asked sooner – Laslow shouted, as the three children were being sucked in: "I feel like a fool for not asking!"

"What?!" Anankos shouted back.

"I said I feel like a fool for not asking! What is your daughter's name!?"

"Aw, _shit!"_ Anankos shouted. The pool was wrapping around them now, dragging them in at a breakneck speed. Water exploded from the tide pool like a raging ocean, soaking Anankos and staving off the Vallites. "I can't _believe_ I forgot to mention that! I'm a turd!"

"You would _think_ to have said it sooner, you idiot!" Selena shouted back, yelping as the cold water began dragging her in.

"What is thy fair daughter's moniker!?" Odin yelled, with only his head visible in the whirlpool's grasp. "Please tell us it's not something common like Anna or Linda…"

"Hardly!" said Anankos, spluttering as more water sloshed over him. "My daughter's name is – "

He was cut short as water from a final tidal wave landed in his mouth. The three now known as Odin, Laslow, and Selena shouted as the waters overwhelmed and drowned them, dragging them through the great vortex to the world above that he had created. As the water finally settled, Anankos spat in frustration and shivered. The Vallites that had advanced behind him were able to shake off the water and readied themselves, all eager to skewer the hapless hooded man to his last breath.

Anankos didn't even have to look at them to know that – even as the winds picked up, blowing his hood away and giving him sight. His sky blue locks spilled over like the very waters he controlled, and his deep, crimson eyes glimmered with the life and sadness and regret he denied himself after so long.

"Unless some miracle happens and others find my daughter, it's all up to you three idiots…" He said softly to himself as the Vallites all threw themselves at him at once. He did not flinch as magic and blades bloodied his body.

 _"…Promise me that, at the very least, you three will return with my daughter,"_ Anankos thought, blood dripping from his mouth. _"I will put my faith in you, no matter what fates befall you…I believe you will all end my suffering."_

The hapless soul of Anankos coughed violently as he collapsed, life fleeing from him at last. He could sense the presence of the body he split from and his cries of fury. With the dragon's soul dying, whatever scraps of sanity he kept were fleeing fast.

He fell to the grass, bathed in his own blood and veiled by the night sky. The Vallites remained silent and still, all on guard, expecting some trick or last-minute attack from the man. If they could feel any kind of emotion, it would be a sore sense of disappointment, for the soul of Anankos was at death's door.

 _"I'm sorry.…Arete…I'm sorry… Azura…I'm sorry…Mikoto…I'm…sorry…Kamui…"_

* * *

Timeline Hijinks:

Early May: Cynthia and Inigo become lovers; set before Chapter 21 of Awakening.  
Early June: After marching for several weeks to Plegia, Chapters 21-23 of Awakening occur.  
Mid June: Arrival back to Ylisse.  
July: Chapter 24 of Awakening; Cynthia discovers she's pregnant; Present!Owain is born.  
August: Back to Ylisse, departure to Isle of Origin/Chapter 25; Present!Inigo is born  
Mid September: Chapter 25/Endgame.  
October: Owain, Severa and Inigo depart to the world of FE: Fates.  
December: Lucina and Cynthia talk about life at Sumia's ranch; Cynthia's baby is due in February.


End file.
